


The Soul Snatchers' Saga

by Nikkie2571



Series: The Soul Snatchers' Saga + AUs & side stories [1]
Category: Original Work, Soul Snatchers' Saga
Genre: Ableism, Andatamel - Species, Autism, Bad Flirting, Betrayal, Birth Defects, Canon Autistic Character, Child Abuse, Chronic Illness, Dragons, Elves, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fantasy, Flirting, Gen, Ichneum - Species, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Internalized Albeism, Intersex, M/M, Magic, Male-Female Friendship, Minor Character Death, Multi, Original Fiction, Original Language, Original magical species, Other, Phoenixes, Polyamory, Romance, Sexism, Trauma, Twins, Vampires, autistic author, but it's not the focus of the story, drakes, humans with magic have special names, magical deals not turning out in your favour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2019-09-01 18:12:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 36,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16770283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikkie2571/pseuds/Nikkie2571
Summary: The planet is screaming in pain, the magic holding it together being torn apart by a hidden group with fanatical ideas. Implored by its cries, the Guardians of the world have elected warriors who will one day stop this threat, granting them strange and unique powers, but also cursing them to hold strange and unique lives. For no gift is without its curse.[Also on Fictionpress]





	1. Prologue: Maradalel

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a work of love and *extreme* patience. It has taken a long time for it to reach this form, incomplete though it may be. Be warned that edits may be made at any time and the updates to previously existing chapters are always possible as this story is still very much a heavy work in progress. Updates are also liable to be very very slow.
> 
> Many of my characters have traits of various minorities and other such things (e.g. Gender/Sexuality Minorities, Racial Minorities, Developmental Disabilities, Physical Disabilities, Mental Illness, Etc...) that cause them undue suffering, some of which I possess and others which I do not. I will try my best to accurately depict the struggles and strengths of each of them, but I know I will have difficulty in depicting accurately even the traits that I do have.
> 
> If you have anything to say about, or even suggest for, the story, be it good or bad, please leave a comment and I will get back to you eventually! :)
> 
> Also, please give this work a chance if you find the general quality to be sub-par, my writing has increased in quality considerably since I wrote my first three or so chapters, I just don't have the time to go back and replace them with something better!
> 
> I have a discord for discussing any and all of my stories: https://discord.gg/tBGA5fU
> 
> General edit (May 31, 2019): Changed all medium dashes "–" into long dashes "—". (Note: medium dashes "–" and short dashes"-" usually display as different lengths in most places, but not here, hence the need for the change)

Danda—el was concerned.

Well, rather, his wife was concerned. But Modara being concerned made him concerned, so Danda—el was concerned. She had been feeling _off_ for a few days in a way she couldn’t quite explain and was worrying about the bright spark of life she carried inside her. 

So, because there was really no other way to help, Danda—el sent for a healer to come to check on his wife. She was due to arrive soon, and Danda—el couldn’t help feeling nervous as he sat in the dining room. Orange and chartreuse splotches danced over his skin stiffly, openly displaying his anxiety.

A knock on the stone doorway interrupted his worrying. Slowly, Danda—el got up, still too nervous to really move fast, and walked over to the door. Pulling open the wooden boundary revealed the orange dotted face of the healer, who had a timid smile presented as her expression.

“Ah! Greetings, Danda—el. I hope I’m not late?” She asked.

“No, no, you’re right on time Doctor,” Danda—el replied, waving a hand to invite her inside.

She smiled as she ducked through the low door, trying to avoid hitting her antlers on the frame. Danda—el guided the healer through the house to the bedroom, where Modara was resting. She looked every bit the 6 months pregnant that she was, her currently blotchy orange and azure skin stretched over her bare abdomen. The healer moved to sit on a stool on one side of the bed while Danda—el stood across from her.

The healer lifted her hands silently, not bothering with an explanation, and letting the glow of magic surround her hands. Gently, she then placed her hands upon Modara’s belly, letting the soft light grow to surround it. A moment later though, her skin which was previously pale white changed to an alarming mix of cyan and green, of surprise and disgust, though she did not stop her magic.

“What is it? What’s wrong!?” Modara demanded, her skin completely orange and voice full of panic.

“Y-your child... No, your s-son…” The healer trailed off into a mumble. “He’s formed… wrong.”

Danda—el felt a small part of himself die.

The healer turned to face him, her skin swiftly changing to blue, displaying her pity openly.

“I’m so sorry, but I've never seen something this disturbing,” she said, her eyes wet.

The healer dropped her magic, stood up, and walked out of the room. When she reached the boundary she turned back and said, “I won’t be requiring payment from you. And again, I’m so sorry.” She then left.

Danda—el didn’t know what to think. In an instant, his whole world had crumbled, leaving only loss and confusion behind.

“Modara… _Kim stanav no—u halla_ ?” He asked Modara in the Old Tongue. _What are we to do?_

Modara didn’t answer. Tears flowed down her cheeks as her skin morphed to completely blue.

“ _Ta nesetat stana hidoma pan uv mienas_ ,” she requested, her voice flat. _I need to be alone for a while_.

Denying her would have done no help, and he needed time to mourn as well. So, Danda—el left. He thoughtlessly wandered into the sitting room, placed himself upon a chair and sank in on himself, letting his sorrow run free through him.

He had been so excited for this child ever since the Guardian, Lady Atreva, had granted them a fortune, a line of foretelling. It had described their child as full of potential and wonderfully, endlessly alight. And now it would never be. So Danda—el mourned for the child, the son he had but would not ever see alive.

But then it occurred to him, the Guardian had told them a future that didn’t come true. The Guardian alone was responsible for his sorrow.

Slowly, Danda—el felt his spirit lift as an idea formed in his mind, a way for his son to be just as bright and beautiful as he originally thought.

* * *

Finding out which city the Guardian of Travel was currently residing in had been tough. Though the church in the city had an attendant at all times, it had taken a very long conversation to get the information out of him.

Danda—el didn’t like that the attendant had been male. Andatamel men were soldiers, builders, and entertainers, not church-folk. But, Danda—el had no place in questioning a Guardian’s choice.

The journey to the Human city where Atreva was residing hadn’t been long, but it had been drawn out by Modara’s condition, both physical and emotional. Still, eight days after leaving they both stood in front of a new church, one far more ornate than any they had seen back in their own city.

Danda—el turned to his wife. “ _Enkana la belanat halla kiran_ ?” He asked. _You still want to do this?_

Beneath her cloak, her skin was a mix of colours: orange, blue, red. Fear, sadness, and anger.

“ _On_ .” _Yes._

Danda—el took her hand and walked into the church. There were no worshippers here, only attendants milling about the chamber as the giant serpent at the other end slept.

“Are you here for an audience with the Guardian of Travels?” One of them asked, a male human with bronze skin. His ears were elvish, pointed, a declaration that his magic had come from an Andatamel.

Danda—el didn’t like seeing such a familiar trait on a human, but that wasn’t important right now, so he nodded.

“Then come with me, I will wake the Lady,” he said.

The couple followed the attendant, stopping between the two stone altars meant for gifts. The attendant walked right up to the Guardian and laid a hand upon her massive body.

“My Lady, there are two Andatamelians here to see you,” he said with a gentle voice.

Slowly, the curves of the wrapped black snake started to move, the constant gentle aura of a guardian beginning to glow as she rearranged her whole length to a new position. Watching it was like watching a wall move like water, rippling and shimmering and beautiful.

Finally, her head emerged from the depths of her coils, her bright cyan eyes staring straight into Danda—el.

“Who approaches me?” The Guardian said, her voice not coming from her mouth, but settling in Danda—el’s mind like a drop of water in a pond.

“We are Danda—el and Modara,” Danda—el began, “we come from the Andatamel city of Dammaga, where three months ago you granted me and my wife a fortune of foretelling, telling us that our children would be strong and gifted and oh so endlessly filled with light.”

Danda—el paused for a moment, letting his rage build as he prepared for his next words.

“You lied to us that day!” Danda—el exclaimed. “Our unborn son was seen to by a healer recently, and her very face told us that our son is not even _healthy,_ let alone strong! So, we are here to demand you repay us for your lies!”

The serpent stared for a moment, her aura flowing like waves around her.

“I see,” she said, words cool and level. “Well then, Modara Iridam of the city Dammaga, come forth and let me see if your husband’s words ring true.”

Modara approached the Guardian slowly, orange dancing over her skin like living firelight. When she was close enough the guardian reached out with her tail and gently touched it to Modara’s belly, her whole being quickly being surrounded with the aura of detecting magic. Atreva’s head tilted slightly as she examined Modara, as if pleasantly surprised. She then dropped the magic and spoke with a tone that spoke with volumes of meaning.

“Your child is fixable.”

Danda—el’s heart soared and Modara began to cry, her skin now vibrantly yellow.

“But first,” the Guardian stated, “I need to decide my half of the bargain.”

Slowly, the Guardian’s tail reached over to one of her attendants, grabbing a bundle from their arms.

“You will raise the child I give you, no matter their faults,” the Guardian said. “You came this far out of concern for your child, and I commend you for that, but you ask me to change something fundamental about him. So, you will do _nothing_ if the child I give you is nothing like what you expect.”

“Of course,” Modara said, not even letting Danda—el reply.

Atreva stared at Modara for a moment, seemingly lost in thought.

“What would you have named your son?” She eventually said.

Cyan and chartreuse covered Modara’s skin. “I… _Andale_ , if it was a boy,” she replied, sounding slightly confused. _Great light._

Atreva’s eyes closed and she nodded. “Very good,” she said.

Atreva then brought forth the bundle she held in her tail.

“This is Mara, she was abandoned here, as she made no sound upon her birth. I am going to heal her.”

Although she had the pointed ears, the child was clearly not an Andatamel. All Andatamel had pure white skin and hair, but this child was human, pale pink, skin covered in brown dotting and rich soil coloured fuzz spewing from her scalp.

Danda—el’s blood boiled and red streaked across his skin.

“What!” He yelled. “We came here for you to heal _our_ child, not this _human._ ”

The Guardian turned a judging glance to him, her cyan eyes probing deep into him.

“Soon, she will be your child,” she said.

Danda—el was too angry and too confused to understand, he could only fume.

Atreva reached her tail out to Modara once more, wrapping both the human girl and Modara in her coils. Then, she began to glow with an intense bright golden light. Danda—el had to look away, waiting till it faded.

When the light was gone, so too was the human girl, leaving only cloth and Modara, looking scared and lost.

“As my final order,” the Guardian said. “You will name your new child _Maradalel_ , _joined lights._ You will take care of them, for they are yours.”

Danda—el felt his rage peak, angrier that he had ever been before.

“You’ve defiled my son, you _snake!_ ” He yelled, the insult falling from his mouth like a stone. “You have mixed him with a human. With a _girl_ ! You’ve made him into a _freak._ ”

Atreva turned to Danda—el and looked at him with her cool and treacherous eyes.

“I have done no such thing Commander Iridam. So cool your anger, for without me, you would have lost him anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit (April 21, 2019): updated chapter to reflect proper rules for Andatamel skin and changed some dialogue over to the Old Tongue  
> Edit (may 15, 2019): changed Alel(il): Light(s) to Ale(l): Light(s), which has the repercussion of changing "Andalel" to "Andale". Also, corrected Maradalel's translation from "joined by light" to "joined lights"  
> Edit (Jun 25, 2019): Made general flow changes and made certain lore more clear for first-time readers.  
> Edit (Jun 28, 2019): Made two edits, one to make it more clear to first-time readers about how human mages work, and another to make Mara an Elf, to clear up any possible confusion and inconsistencies for future chapters.


	2. Chapter 1: The Farm - Charl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor Character Death happens in this chapter. Also, some clearly speciesist people appear. Be forewarned.

The sun was setting above the forest clearing when Charl finished his chores. He sat up on the fence and watched as orange filled the sky above him. Charl smiled to himself, the view was just as beautiful as the first time he watched the sun move lower in the sky. The forest was quiet, not even the wind making a noise as it gently blew through the orange leaves. Kicking his feet, Charl began to grow restless, the view and the cool autumn air not stopping him from wanting to play. Full of expectation, Charl ran as fast as he could over to the chicken coop. The chickens were always fun. They always had time to play.

When he got there Charl crouched low, waiting patiently. It didn’t take long for the chickens to wander over. First was Alice, young and dark brown, followed by Lucy, older and lighter. Charl smiled, his arms open wide in invitation to his animal friends. Both chickens hurried over to him to meet his embrace.

“Hello, birdies!” He said with a smile on his face as he gently hugged them.

Charl then began to pet each hen with one of his hands, both of them making soft noises as he did.

“I’m glad I have you two with me here,” Charl said with a wide grin. “Otherwise it would be quite boring with only chores to do every day.”

The hens didn’t respond, too busy being pet. Charl sighed. Sometimes he really wished that the chickens could talk to him.

Before Charl could get too sad thinking about chickens that didn’t talk though, he heard his father calling his name.

“Charl! Your mother and I are done for the day, so we’re going to go inside!” He called, getting closer with each word.

“I wanna stay out and play with the chickens!” Charl called back, no longer petting the hens.

“Well, don’t take too long, dinner will be soon!” was his father’s response. Charl grinned.

Turning back to the hens Charl quickly sat down on the ground properly and pulled the young Alice into his lap. He then began petting down her back and she leaned against his chest.

“Mom and Dad are boring,” Charl said to Lucy. “They never want to play with me. Not like you two.”

Lucy clucked and then turned away from him. Charl pouted in response.

And then the ground started shaking. Charl was so shocked he stopped petting Alice, who clucked almost concernedly at him. Charl gently removed Alice from his lap, instead choosing to properly hold her, and slowly started walking towards the house. Mom and Dad would know why the ground was shaking. Mom and Dad would keep him safe from any danger.

However, Charl stopped before getting to the house, because just as he was about to cross through the fence that surrounded the house he saw five strange people standing nearby. They were all pale and tall, with white hair and antlers on their heads. They weren’t wearing many clothes and were standing in a circle. Strangest of all, their entire bodies were glowing with white light.

Charl stood stock still and watched them, too scared to interrupt them in case they decided to do something bad. He watched as the strange people began to glow brighter and he watched as large stone blocks mysteriously rose out of the ground and surrounded his house.

He screamed as the stone blocks crashed together and destroyed his home.

Thinking quickly, before the strange people could spot him, Charl hid behind one of the thick fence posts that made up the inner gate, dropping Alice as he did so. Silent tears began to drip down his cheeks, his terror making them impossible to stop.

“Did you hear that?” Charl heard one of the strange people say.

“It sounded like a human child,” replied another.

“Get it off of Anda-Tamel land then!” Yelled the first one.

Charl didn’t have time to think this time, he just ran, even though his vision had become blurry from his terrified tears. He ran as quickly as he could into the trees. But, once he was there, he almost instantly tripped on the uneven ground and was quickly wrapped in an uncomfortable blanket of soil and stones. Charl’s terror spiked and even more tears began to fall.  
Footsteps began approaching from behind and slowly Charl’s stone cocoon moved him so he could face the approaching stranger. Being turned around fully revealed that the person was one of the strange people, a woman whose skin looked like a moving thing, changing between many colours. From this close, he could see her pointed ears and strange green eyes.

“You know, kid,” she said once she was face-to-face with him. “I am _really_ going to enjoy doing this.” And then she smiled, showing off her teeth in a way that made Charl’s stomach turn shakily.

The woman then lifted one her hands, which was now gloved with a glowing light, and squeezed it into a fist. The dirt and rocks that surrounded Charl began to push against him, making it impossible for him to breathe. Tears fell continuously from his eyes as the air was painfully pushed from his lungs.

And then the pain stopped and Charl was dropped roughly to the ground. Now free, he took in a deep breath and then let out a string of coughs. It took a long moment for Charl to breathe properly. When at last he finally could, Charl looked up, only to recoil in shock.

There stood a furry creature in front of him, holding a large rock, and wearing only a cloak to cover himself. Though he mostly looked like a brown furred person, his face looked like a weasel’s and his legs were like those of an animal, instead of feet. He even appeared to have a tail.

“Are… Are you alright?” The weasel-looking man asked, the words sounding twisted coming out of his mouth.

Charl could only cry in response. The strange man looked around quickly, dropping the rock as he did so, and then made a determined face.  
He picked up Charl and ran.

Charl barely paid attention as the furry creature ran further into the woods. It was completely dark out and his eyes were full of tears, so even if he did, he wouldn’t have seen much anyway.

The man finally stopped running when he neared a campsite, one with only a fire pit and a bedroll. Charl was gently placed near the unlit fire while the man sat down on the other side.

The man held out a glowing hand and Charl flinched, a spark of fear settling in his mind. Instead of anything bad happening, the fire pit lit up and the wood caught fire. The man pulled back his hand and set it down in his lap. Charl looked away from him and down at the ground.

“Are you warm enough?” The man asked.

Charl didn’t answer.

“Do you want to leave?”

Charl didn’t answer that either.

“Are you hungry?”

Charl shook his head. The man sighed.

“Can you tell me your name then? Mine is Renzo Ikara,” he said.

Charl looked back up at the man, Renzo, looking into his eyes from across the fire. Charl’s wet stare held on to Renzo’s sad gaze for a long-held moment before he said “my name is Charl.”


	3. Chapter 2: The Surprise - Retta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sat on this chapter for over a week before posting it because I wasn't sure if it was in postable condition. I've posted it now because I know it's good enough to be posted, but do not be surprised if things are changed as I receive feedback.  
> However, I hope you enjoy the chapter in its current state and that nothing will need changing. :)
> 
> EDIT(april 8th, 2019): Added/changed a few lines to improve characterization.

Retta wasn’t expecting the knock on her door. Though two similar knocks from earlier that day weren’t entirely expected either, this third knock was completely unprecedented. However, Retta was sure that she knew exactly who was standing at her door, and looking up from her book confirmed her guess when she was brought eye to sheepish eye with her twin, Rashidi. Why he was here now, she could only guess.

Retta’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “Are you here to check on me? Again?” She asked.

The sheepish look on Rashidi’s face intensified, the muscles around his green eyes tightening. 

_ ‘Well... that answers that then,’ _ Retta thought.

Retta heaved a tired sigh and placed her book down on the bedside table. “Just… be quick about it. I was at a really interesting part of the story,” she said as she adjusted herself to be lying down.

Rashidi silently walked over to her bed and pushed up the sleeves of his yellow robe, exposing the dark skin of his arms. Carefully he hovered his hands over her and they then began to glow with the familiar light of his magic,  followed by the previously hidden and angular marks that covered his draconic horns and forehead. The marks of a drake type human mage .

The aura around Rashidi’s hands then slowly flowed down to encompass her body, letting him see and understand everything about it, even through the nightgown she was wearing. Rashidi then closed his eyes and began to mumble softly, bobbing his head to the words. Retta could clearly hear him reciting the order of areas to check on. She smiled to herself, pleased and amused, and then closed her eyes so she could think as her brother’s magic flowed and prodded around her.

Retta could tell that Rashidi was clearly worried about _something_. Rashidi had checked up on her too many times today alone for him not to be. But, nothing was different, as far as Retta could tell. She felt just as weak as the last few times she had been checked and she hadn’t even suffered any sudden damage recently. The only thing that could possibly have changed were the runes that helped hold her frail human body together.   
But… Rashidi wouldn’t have changed them… Would he? While the countless healers who had seen to her hadn’t done anything special or complex with the runes, they were the only thing stopping her from dying.

It didn’t make sense but it was the only explanation Retta had. They were the only thing that could be different. Rashidi _must_ have changed the runes. It wouldn’t even have been all that difficult either. The process of redrawing the runes was so boring and routine that Rashidi could easily have changed them around without her noticing.  
Sparks of fear, anger, and confusion filled Retta’s mind and she so badly wanted to listen to the impulse they suggested, to open her mouth and spit accusations at her brother. But, that wouldn’t help. He would only grow distressed and refuse to speak, so she waited patiently for her opportunity to ask.

When at last the mumbling and the prodding stopped, Retta opened her eyes and this time was brought the sight of her brother’s face covered in an expression of the purest relief. There was only one thing that could explain that. So Retta opened her mouth and asked:

“Did you change the runes?”

Rashidi’s eyes widened in shock and he let out a quiet gasp.

_ ‘Got you!’ _ Retta thought with vindictive glee. Quickly, she followed up with another question: “Why did you change them?”

Rashidi’s eyes darted nervously a bit before he gave his answer. 

“I, uh… I’ve been experimenting,” he said quietly, fiddling with the cuff of his now unrolled sleeve. “I decided that if I was gonna be your m-medic then I should probably do my job and actually, uh, you know... help? It was supposed to be a surprise...”

Retta froze, the response she got having been far more honest and genuine than she had expected. Though still in the back of her mind burned anger at her brother for tampering with her medical care without telling her, the gesture was such a kind one she couldn’t help but ignore it.

Blinking back into awareness, Retta smiled.

“I, um…” Rashidi mumbled, clearly confused.  His fingers were now roughly but rhythmically stroking over the cuff of his robes .

“I can’t imagine the amount of work this must have taken you. Thank you, ” Retta said honestly.

Just as planned, Rashidi stopped fidgeting and a small smile formed on his face.

“But, can you tell me what exactly you changed?” Retta asked, genuinely curious. He did, after all, still mess with the magic holding her together.

In response to the question Rashidi’s whole body lit up, his grin covered his face and  he was practically bouncing in place . “So, I, uh, mostly wanted to get you, you know, out of bed and moving around. I’ve wanted to do that for a while, but until relatively recently I didn’t have the knowledge needed to find a proper replacement that would do a better job. Turns out that nobody really wants to do research on a condition that’s so rare and, pretty much except with you, quickly lethal.”

Rashidi froze, apparently taken off guard by his own dark words. Retta, too, was caught off guard for a moment, her twin’s words settling like a heavy rock in her stomach. After a few stretched moments though, Rashidi appeared to shake himself out of whatever thoughts he was having,  and continued bouncing .

“Oh, so, uh, to be as simple as possible, I replaced all the general healing runes with a process that actually compares your body to a general image of a healthy body that the magic wants you to approach. This way more magic can go towards healing specific parts of you rather than just attempting to repair all of you, regardless of it needing it or not.” Here Rashidi smiled a little brighter, looking a little smug. At least in Retta’s opinion.

“I’ve actually put a line in there to have the spell focus on healing your bones right now,” Rashidi said. “I’ll add the other problem areas over time, but the next one will definitely be your muscles.”

Rashidi then gave her a bit of a glare. “I happened to notice  _ by the way _ , that they aren’t in as good shape as they should be. You’ve been ignoring your exercises.”

Shame and guilt prickled at Retta’s stomach.

“Sorry, I’ve been really drawn into my books.” She lied, an apologetic smile placed shamefully on her face. In truth, she avoided doing the muscle exercises, as they only made her feel more achy and tired than before. They didn’t feel worth the effort.

Rashidi sighed, shoulders slouching as his face relaxed into grudging acceptance.

“Just be glad it’s me here and not Mum, she would probably have dragged out a long talk in an attempt to incentivize you.”

Retta made a relieved face.  _ ‘Oh yeah, totally glad it’s not Mum,’ _ she thought.

The room turned silent then, neither twin apparently knowing what to say at the moment. Retta’s mind whirled for a second, trying to come up with a way to continue on the previous topic, but failed. So Retta changed topics entirely.

“Rashidi…” Retta began asking. “Will Sika or Nikeese be coming by today at all?”

Rashidi froze for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Um… I think Sika is busy actually? She mentioned something about a visiting uncle yesterday,” he said.

Retta nodded in understanding. Visiting relatives took up a lot of time.

“And Nikeese? Is he also busy?” She then asked. She really wanted to see at least one of her friends.

Rashidi opened his mouth, but before he could speak a familiar voice interrupted him.

“Knock knock,” Nikeese said from the doorway. Both of the twins turned to face him, mouths open in surprise.

“So,” he began, a smirk centred on his tan face, “I was  _ supposed _ to help Sika with some of her rune work today, but seeing as she’s a bit occupied with a surprise guest I decided to come over here instead. I do hope that’s alright with you two darlings?” After asking his question Nikeese lifted one of his golden eyebrows, advertising that he clearly knew neither of them would deny him.

Retta just shook her head in response, amused by her friend’s antics.

“You’re a goof!” She said happily. “You’re always welcome here and you know it.”

The smirk on Nikeese’s face morphed into a much more genuine smile, lips stretched from ear to elvish ear. “Well, yes. But it’s always nice to ask first, isn’t it?” He said as he practically skipped over towards the twins.

“I suppose it is,” Retta replied, a smile forming on her face as well.

Nikeese reached the bed and leapt onto it, his body bouncing a bit on the mattress.

“So, how have you been, dear?” He asked, looking expectantly at Retta.

Retta took a moment to formulate an answer, trying to come up with something that wasn’t untrue, but also not dreary.

“Well, if I think about it, I guess my bones don’t ache as much today as they did yesterday?” she eventually said.

Nikeese smiled brighter, but then he seemed to realize something and turned to Rashidi with a questioning face. “Does she know?” He asked.

Rashidi nodded in response, his expression a combination of pleased and delighted.  His hands were swaying a little, gently gliding past the sides of his legs .

Nikeese’s smile returned.

“So what do you think? Did you like the surprise?” He asked her, anticipation filling his voice.

Retta opened her mouth, fully intending to answer, but what came out instead was: “Wait, does that mean you helped?”

Nikeese nodded, his blond hair flopping excitedly due to the motion of his head.

Retta felt her smile soften, Nikeese was just too adorable sometimes.

“A gift from my brother and my friend… How could I not love it?” Retta said, joy clear in her voice.

Both Rashidi’s and Nikeese’s smiles turned blinding, which made a light sensation fill up Retta’s chest. But, then Nikeese’s smile fell. It was so quick that Retta actually felt a tad scared.

“Nikeese, what’s wrong?” Retta asked.

“Your plant,” he said with disappointment. “You haven’t been watering it.”

Retta turned her head towards the window where indeed a rather droopy looking leafy plant sat.

“Oh,” was all Retta managed to say before Nikeese walked over to it. Quite quickly his hands lit up with light, as did the curving mark that ran from his neck, over the shells of his pointed ears, and ending over his cheeks. The marks of an elf type mage.  
He reached out with an aura clad hand and instantly the plant perked up, turning a much deeper green in the process.

“There! That’s much better isn’t it?” Nikeese asked,  turning towards the twins as the glow receded from his face, making the marks hidden once more .

Retta didn’t know what to say, she was too busy feeling disappointed in herself for not taking care of the plant. It had been a gift from Sika and she had ignored it.

“I wish I could do that, manipulate plants I mean,” Rashidi said, voice filling the silence. “It would be much more useful than  _ lightning _ .” The disappointment in his voice dripped like tar.

Nikeese rolled his eyes, his expression amused. “Well, darling, unlike me and Retta, you got your magic from a Dragon, not an Andatamel. You’re just going to have to deal,” he said with a hefty amount of teasing in his voice.

Nikeese’s eyes then went half-closed and his smile shifted, now looking a little like his smirk from earlier. “Besides, darling, I think lightning suits you quite well. After all, you do look quite  _ striking _ ,” he said, voice half teasing and half sultry.

Rashidi blushed so fiercely it was visible even through his dark skin. It covered his whole face, which was now comically shocked.

Retta couldn’t help but laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it wasn't clear enough (please tell me if that is the case), all three characters in this chapter are fully human, with Retta and Nikeese being Andatamel gifted mages (hence the pointed ears), called Elves, and Rashidi being a Dragon gifted mage (hence the draconic horns), which makes him a Drake.


	4. Chapter 3: The Request - Zephyr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been waffling about posting this chapter for a while, as I am unsatisfied with it. I have been assured by many people that it reads just fine, but don't be surprised if this chapter changes or disappears.
> 
> Edit (May 30, 2019): Changed "Bers" to "Berg", as Bers is not the name of a wind  
> Edit (June 4, 2019): Changed a line near the beginning to make it more clear what Zephyr looks like

Zephyr struck out her claws, slashing them across the unguarded abdomen of Chinook. Though she didn’t break through the scales, he was pushed back into the perfect position for her next strike. Raising her left leg, Zephyr swung her clawed foot towards her opponent’s jaw, but was blocked, the pale orange arm of her sparring partner in the way.

Thinking fast, Zephyr backed away with a spin, ending up on Chinook’s left side. With the new space between them his oncoming punch became trivial to block, easily pushed away and retaliated with a hard shove to his shoulders.

Chinook landed with a grunt on the cave floor, his wings splayed out helplessly, and Zephyr easily leaned over and planted her foot on his chest, signalling her win.

“You made that look easy!” Chinook said angrily, glaring up at her.

“That’s because it was,” Zephyr replied with a cheeky smile.

Chinook’s glare intensified. “Thanks,” he said, his voice full of sarcasm.

Zephyr lifted her foot and then held out her hand, but Chinook just slapped it away.

“I keep telling you, I don’t need your help,” he sneered, as he pushed himself off of the ground. In response, Zephyr frowned but backed off, letting Chinook walk away, likely to his personal chamber to brood.

“You know it would be a lot more helpful if you didn’t end your fights so quickly, no one’s learning that way,” said a familiar voice from behind her.

Zephyr turned to face the dragon who raised her and the judging glint in his orange eyes.

“I’m pretty sure they’d like me less if I did that,” she replied, voice flat. Despite that her muscles were tense, her body already preparing to be annoyed. She ran her fingers through her hair to give them something to do.

Etesians stared for a second before sighing, his red body sagging slightly like a rose just starting to die. “You’re not wrong,” he said.

Zephyr relaxed a little and smiled triumphantly, soft human lips parting to reveal draconic teeth.

“They don’t need to learn as long as you and I are here,” Zephyr said with a pleased note in her voice. She paused for a second before tacking on “and Khamseen.”

Etesians raised one of his brows, the flex of bright red scales almost missable even from this close. “We could always use more trained fighters and you know that,” he said, judgement filling in for the words he wasn’t saying. The tone made Zephyr’s blood fill with heat.

Zephyr scrunched up her face, her nose wrinkling in an expression of her distaste. “None of them have any talent though,” she said. “And those that do wouldn’t be willing to put in the effort, fighting is just… a pastime to them.”

Etesians sighed a second time. “Again, you’re not wrong, but… please, try to actually teach them?” He asked.

Zephyr’s blood boiled, the heat built surprisingly quickly, even for her. But, she couldn’t deny the request. Just as her statements weren’t wrong neither were his.

“Fineeee,” she drawled out, making it clear just how much she didn’t want to. Nevertheless, Etesians nodded, smiled a bit, and then left. Zephyr now stood alone in the sparring hall, her boiling blood her only companion. With no distraction present her anger only built, like it always did, no matter how wrong and irrational the feelings were.

Zephyr’s anger spilled over for a moment and in her rage she punched a nearby wall, the pearlescent white scales of her hand meeting the rough stone with a _thwack_. Zephyr growled as pain filled her fingers and anger flowed through her heart. She knew the pain wouldn’t help, but it felt deserved.

Zephyr turned on her heel, no longer able to stand the sight of carved stone. The heat of her emotions fueled her limbs as she stalked out of the cave and towards the gardens, towards safety.

The dirt beneath her feet progressed from hard packed mountain dirt to soft and wet garden soil as she walked, the wetness between her toes helping tone down her mood a little, but not enough. No, to do that properly she needed to talk to Wally.

He wasn’t easy to miss, even though his green scales blended in somewhat with the crops. The small black and white dots over his body stood out like dappling on a fawn, a comparison Zephyr had actually made before.

Zephyr stopped walking. Wally wasn’t alone. With him were 2 other dragons: they were quite young, female, one yellow and one orange. Berg and Alize. Wally was only barely taller than them.

“Hello Williwaw!” they said together, notes of unkindness noticeable as their voices carried over the plants. “We were just wondering…” “Can you do anything other than tend plants yet?” Berg had spoken first, then Alize.

Wally spoke, but quieter than the girls had and Zephyr wasn’t close enough to hear him. His entire posture screamed submission. Anger building even more now that others were antagonizing her friend, Zephyr managed to resume walking.

“Wally,” Zephyr called, letting just a touch of her aggression show in her voice. “Are those two bothering you?”

The green dragon turned his head, the black line that ran down his snout now visible along with his slightly panicked eyes.

“N-no,” he replied. “Not at all.”

Despite his words, he was clearly rubbing his hands together nervously.

“Well they can leave, because I want to talk to you,” Zephyr said, voice hard.

The girls looked at each other quickly, panic crossing both of their faces before they fled.

“Thank you,” Wally said quietly. There was a smile on his face now, the one he always wore after Zephyr had done something for him. Zephyr didn’t smile back, but she did feel her anger melt a little bit.

“So.. You’ll never guess what my father asked me to do,” Zephyr said, pushing as much of her annoyance into the statement as she could.

“Well then I guess you’ll just have to tell me,” Wally said, his mouth stretched cheekily.

Zephyr rolled her eyes. “Don’t be sassy,” she said teasingly. “Anyway, he asked me to actually train the others, despite how he _knows_ how little dedication to learning they’ll have. Especially with me teaching them.” Zephyr’s voice took on a hard edge with the final comment and a tiny bit of new anger bubbled in her veins.

Wally tilted his face thoughtfully, appearing to think for a long moment. “But… Wouldn’t them knowing anything be better than them knowing nothing? As long as they knew _some_ level of fighting we would all be better off, right?” Wally suggested.

Zephyr’s anger deflated. No amount of rage could refute that kind of logic and it would be stupid to try. Plus, getting angry at Wally would only hurt him, which would be bad, because that would be _hurting Wally_.  
“I-I guess so,” Zephyr replied, stuttering as she tripped over her own emotional shift.

Williwaw smiled gently in reply. “I take it you feel better now?” He asked.

Zephyr sighed. “Yeah… Still don’t like the situation though.”

“That’s fair,” Wally replied.

Zephyr felt her mouth uptick into a slight smile.


	5. Chapter 4: The Party and The Piercing - Maradalel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very hard to write, not just emotionally, but conceptually. It took a long time for me to gather enough ideas and smash them together to make this chapter and even longer to edit them so they actually fit together well in a way that was pleasing.  
> please please please mention any issues you find and I will try to fix them.
> 
> Also, I have updated the prologue slightly to include the language I used in this chapter. It's not required to go back and reread it if you already have, as the events are unchanged.
> 
> Edit (May 2, 2019): Changed the skin colour from Turquoise to Mint.  
> Edit (May 11, 2019. Minor): changed the standalone "Kana" (child: unmodified) to "Kata" (child) to better clarify the way the Andatamel view the ageing process.  
> Edit (May 19, 2019): Made more clear a particular detail about Maradalel, especially for those who may not have read the prologue. Also added a small bit more explanation for the emotional skin fo the Andatamel.

Maradalel gasped when the piercer pressed a chunk of ice to the base of his right ear, its coldness burning where it touched him.

“Keep that ice there, child, or it’ll hurt quite a bit when I use the needle,” said the piercer from behind him, in her almost melodic voice.

Maradalel nodded, a small bit of orange leeching its way onto his skin.

“How long do I have to hold it there?” Maradalel asked.

The piercer chuckled. “Until you can’t feel your ear anymore.”

Again, Maradalel nodded.

“Will your son follow in your footsteps one day, Sir Danda—el?” The piercer asked.

Maradalel’s father hummed. “A proud father always wishes for his son to follow him.”

Maradalel flinched. His father hadn’t really answered the question.

“Oh, then has he started his training?”

“I’ll actually be increasing the difficulty of his training tomorrow, as he will be a  _ kana—a _ .”

Maradalel gulped, his skin turning fully orange. The combat training was difficult enough already, he wasn’t sure he could handle more.

Danda—el tutted. “ _ Kata _ , you have nothing to fear. You are strong, are you not?”

Maradalel’s bones felt chilly, but not with cold. Despite the reassuring tone his father had used he couldn’t help but feel reprimanded, a feeling that the use of  _ child _ in the Old Tongue didn’t help.

“Yes,  _ bala _ , I am your  _ kele _ , so I must be strong,” Maradalel replied flatly.

Danda—el smiled. “ _ Ill kana—a _ .”

_ Good boy, _ he had said. Maradalel had been praised.

It didn’t feel like praise,  it felt like a reminder .

* * *

Maradalel’s ear wasn’t quite numb when he removed the ice from it, but he’d been here long enough. He wanted to go home.

The piercer grabbed his earlobe. It was a very faint sensation, almost phantom.

“Did you feel that, child?” She asked.

Maradalel hummed and shook his head.

“Good! Then you won’t feel this either,” she said as she poked a needle through his ear lobe. Or at least, Maradalel assumed she did. He couldn’t tell.

“There, all done,” announced the piercer a moment later. Maradalel reached up and touched his ear, fondling the new piercing. Like the one on his father’s right and his mother’s left, this piercing declared him no longer a child.

Maradalel felt yellow crawl onto his skin. He’d almost not been allowed to get the piercing, so feeling it actually hang from his ear was a dream come true.

Danda—el turned away from the piercer. “Come along,  _ kana—a _ . Your  _ mali _ will want to celebrate.”

Maradalel flinched before following. Though hearing  _ kana—a _ was nice, he would have preferred his name.

“Father…  _ Bala _ …  _ Peledat la nu mana tav apedi _ ?”  _ Can you not use my name?  _ Maradalel asked from beside Danda—el.

His father gave him a sideways glance. “ _ Tillem la pemedat merl, ta valav merl _ .”  _ When you deserve it, I will use it.  _ He said sternly.

Maradalel clenched his jaw but nodded, acknowledging his father’s unspoken request.

* * *

Many people came to the celebration, most of them were friends of his parents and their families. He was forced to greet and welcome all the guests, as they had come to celebrate him. Maradalel felt uncomfortable with having so many people in the house, not because of their number, but because of what they might say to him.

One guest commented on his hair, calling it ugly, while another thought it was unique. Maradalel just wanted to hide it, for it to stop looking like dirt and start looking like snow.

And then his father’s right hand walked in and Maradalel’s heart stopped. He was definitely going to say something Maradalel wouldn’t like. 

Maradalel stepped back once as he approached, to be behind his parents.

“Danda—el!” Visistale—el called in greeting, voice grating on Maradalel’s ears. “It is an honour to be welcomed into your home.” 

Danda—el nodded, a small smile on his yellow face. “It is an honour to have you here.” 

Visistale—el smiled back, before turning to Maradalel’s mother. “And it is quite lovely to see you again Modara. You grow fairer every day.”

Modara scoffed lightheartedly. “You jest.”

“Oh, but of course I do.”

Someone cleared their throat and Visistale—el startled before looking behind him.

“Oh yes, how could I forget! Young Maradalel, this is my son,  _ Andarada—el _ . I’m quite sure you two haven’t met,” Visistale—el said as he moved aside.

Revealed from behind his father was a boy a little older than Maradalel, his right ear already pierced. He was the most beautiful boy Maradalel had ever seen, dressed in green and gold threaded cloth that made him look like a shining jewel. His skin was covered in azure and chartreuse blobs that travelled slowly.  Clearly, he was feeling quite bored.

When he looked at Maradalel though, his skin changed to cyan before fading to chartreuse all over. Curious.

“Hello, Maradalel,” he said. His voice was calm and nearly too pleasant, but it still sent a small shiver up Maradalel’s spine. “It is an honour to be present at the celebration of your first day as a  _ kana—a _ .”

Maradalel hesitated only a moment before replying. “Welcome, Andarada—el, to my home. It is an h-honour to have your here.”

Maradalel flinched at his stutter, and a blob of red formed on his father’s cheek.

Modara sighed. “Please, join the festivities. Visistale—el. Andarada—el. Perhaps we will talk more later.”

Visistale—el smiled politely. “Of course.”

* * *

When everyone had finally been greeted, Maradalel was left to wander amongst the guests as he pleased. Maradalel didn’t do that though, he didn’t want to talk to any of them. Instead, he stayed near the walls, trying to look as small as he could, avoiding everyone.

At one point, a young boy tried to approach him, but Maradalel flowed through the crowd to avoid him. Unfortunately, this brought him face to neck with Andarada—el.

“Oh!  _ Alo—ra _ , Maradalel.”

Maradalel blinked. “That… was the  _ Old Tongue _ ! Do you know how to speak it?”

Andarada—el turned slightly orange and made a sheepish smile. “I, uh, I  _ can _ , but… not a lot?”

Maradalel smiled. “Well, that’s more than most Andatamel.”

Andarada—el’s smile turned a little grateful. “I, yeah, I guess so.”

Maradalel opened his mouth, intent on saying something, but nothing came out. Silence began to stretch between them, a silence Maradalel wanted to stop, but without words he couldn’t. Red and blue bubbled their way onto his skin as a desire to tear out his hair began to grow.

Andarada—el’s eyes flicked up and down Maradalel’s body, and a few cerise blobs appeared on him.

“You know, when I first saw you, despite all the muscles you  _ clearly _ have…” Andarada—el poked Maradalel’s arm as he said it, the muscle not giving way in the slightest, “I couldn’t help but think of you as  _ pretty _ .”

Maradalel felt himself turn a variety of colours. Orange, mint, red, purple, cerise, yellow, cyan, chartreuse. He must have looked like a mess.

“I… is that good?” Maradalel asked.

Andarada—el brought up his left hand and brushed his thumb over Maradalel’s cheek.

“It’s as good as those freckles on your face,” he said, before leaning over and whispering in his ear. “Very good.”

Maradalel felt his whole body turn orange as embarrassment and fear flooded in equal amounts through him, seizing his heart and making his eyes go wide.

Andarada—el backed up, a smirk present on his mint and cerise face. “If you don’t tell my father I said any of this to you, I’ll be sure to see you again. But, for now, I have to go.  _ Natak kali tiempala _ .”  _ Until next time _ .

Andarada—el then wormed his way through the crowd, away from Maradalel and the mess he had turned him into.

Maradalel could still feel the thumb on his cheek, the pressure of it had tingled its way across the bones of his face. The memory of it both burned and cooled, a conflicting feeling that Maradalel couldn’t help but hate.

Maradalel ran, feeling nothing but the desperate need to be elsewhere. 

He ran into a side hall and stopped there, breathing heavily into the empty quiet space.  His chest burned as his ribs pressed against the bindings around them . His emotions and thoughts were running like horses through his mind and body,  leaving his feeling ragged and torn into .

He’d been called  _ pretty _ . That was bad, really really bad. He wasn’t  _ allowed _ to be pretty!  Only girls were pretty and he wasn’t allowed to be like a girl! People might figure out his secret if he was.

Maradalel held his face in his hands, feeling the too soft skin against his fingers. He was supposed to be a boy! Boys weren’t soft  like he was and they especially didn’t like being called pretty.

But he’d enjoyed it, perhaps too much .

* * *

Maradalel returned to the party only once it was time to bid the guests farewell. He felt better than earlier, but not by much, his body still felt hot and cold all over, and he was sure everyone who looked at him knew he was distressed.

With each passing guest his stomach turned more and more, a building pressure in his lower belly that wasn’t pain, but definitely wasn’t good. Maradalel ignored it, though. He had to.

When he went to send off one of the guests though, she gasped instead of shaking his hand, pointing down at his legs.

“You’re bleeding!” She exclaimed.

Maradalel blinked. “What?” How could he be bleeding? He didn’t feel any pain.

Maradalel looked down at his legs and was greeted by the sight of red staining the left leg of his leggings.

Uninjured, but bleeding. No pain, but severe discomfort in his belly. Maradalel was menstruating, there was no other explanation.  He hoped no one else came to the same conclusion, or he would be in big trouble.

Silence reigned  as orange and blue flared over his body. He… There was a code he needed to remember. He knew it, it was right there on the tip of his tongue. But, what  _ was _ it?!

And then in a brief moment of clarity he remembered, before his world continued to crash down around him.

“ _ M-mali _ ,” Maradalel stuttered, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “ _ Ta n-nesetat atra y-yuda _ .”  _ I need to go lay down _ .

A moment of silence, and then his mother said “ _ La… La stanat inaga _ ?”  _ Are you sure? _

Maradalel nodded shakily. “ _ O-on, mer stanat k-ki visis ii t-tamel—i _ .”  _ Yes, it is the women’s blood _ .

Maradalel watched as his father flushed with anger, his skin becoming a brilliant red, before stomping away. “Everyone needs to leave, now!”

A hand grabbed his shoulder and he was guided out of the room, away from the chaos of people, and into his bedroom. A moment later his father burst through the door.

“ _ Hallat la saladi kim la pose hallad!? _ ”  _ Do you know what you’ve done!?  _ He yelled.

“ _Hallat la kono ta hallat nu!?_ ” _Do you think I don’t!?_ Maradalel yelled back, fury and pain burning in his veins. “ _Ta malagat ta pemedad_ _siesat mo ta posed visisad, ee ta pemedat nu!_ ” _I wish I could control if I had bled, but I can not!_

Danda—el narrowed his eyes. “ _ Mo la stanad tav kola, la allad nu nesetat malaga _ .”  _ If you were my son, you would not need to wish. _

Danda—el then grabbed Modara’s hand and walked out of the room, locking the door behind him.

Maradalel stared at the door until his tears blurred it from his sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want it to be very clear that Maradalel only used Male pronouns because they've only been referred to with male pronouns. They have no freedom for self-expression or exploration, so they don't know they can use Gender Neutral pronouns.  
> While it makes sense, it still may come off as confusing to some, and I apologize for that.


	6. Chapter 5: The Lie - Rashidi

Rashidi took his job seriously. He wouldn’t be recommended for the position of Master Apprentice Medical Mage if he didn’t. But sometimes his job wasn’t easy, especially not right now.  
Rashidi was holding a baby, a very bloody baby, as his colleague, Cilla, tried desperately to keep the very weak and tired mother from bleeding to death, but her face didn’t say anything good. Sometimes not even magic could fix things, sometimes people just gave up on their lives and no amount of healing could stop them. It was always sad, and it always made Rashidi cry, just a little bit.

Rashidi was expecting to cry today. The mother had been in labour far before Rashidi and Cilla had arrived, and before that, she had apparently not been eating well, and just in general had poor health. Her body wasn’t strong enough, it was out of his control.

It sucked.

Rashidi forced himself to watch as the woman’s final breath left her body, as her life ended. It would be a long time yet before he could do it without wanting to cry, but he would get there someday. It was important that men did not cry.  
Rashidi held the baby closer to his chest in an attempt to comfort himself and the newborn. No father was waiting for the child, and they would need to be sent to the church. The current Guardian would find them a home, find them a family.

“I’ll take care of the mother,” Cilla said. “You take the child.”

Rashidi nodded and was quickly out the door.

Rashidi ran as fast as he could with a newborn wrapped in his arms, which wasn’t very fast. The child was whimpering, and Rashidi was trying as best he could not to jostle the child, but it was a losing battle. Rashidi slowed down.

“Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh, it’s alright little one,” he said to the baby, rocking it gently.  Rashidi didn’t know if the rocking was more for the baby’s benefit or his .

Unfortunately, the child did not grow quieter and Rashidi sighed.  The noise made him want to cover his ears, just a little . 

He began to move again, this time walking instead of running. The child in his arms cried and whimpered the entire journey to the church, a loud presence that could not be ignored. The attendants there only had to take one look at him, his distressed face and the child in his arms, to know what to do.  Rashidi was relieved that he had not needed to speak, he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to .

“Thank you, Medic Rashidi, for bringing this child to us. Guardian Adora will surely find a home for them,” said one of the attendants. Her horns were black and shimmered when she bowed her head.

Rashidi nodded in reply and fled, hiding in a nearby alley. Looking it up and down, he saw nobody around. Sighing to himself, Rashidi let his body relax. His arms were wrapped protectively around his stomach. His emotions were high strung and he wanted to just jitter out of his skin.  So, he bounced in place, hands flapping quickly in an expression of his distress . It would be bad if anyone else saw him like this, it was unbecoming,  but he just couldn’t help himself .

When he had finally calmed down, Rashidi realized that he had started humming lowly at some point.  The buzz of noise fell comforting and blocking in his mouth, but he didn’t need it anymore . 

“Rashidi?” Asked a familiar voice.

Rashidi squawked. It was a quick and ugly noise, but it had felt appropriate . Sika had surprised him.

“Good Guardians, Sika! You startled me,” he said.

Sika giggled. “Sorry.”

She didn’t sound sorry,  but Rashidi wasn’t sure .

“What are you doing here Sika?” Rashidi asked. She wasn’t really known for having a lot of faith, not that Rashidi could blame her though. Guardians weren’t only known for being helpful.

“I was on my way to Nik’s, to get some help with a thing, but I saw you over here and wondered what was wrong.”

‘ _ Oh, that kinda made sense _ .’

“Nothing’s wrong… it’s just … a lot,” Rashidi said.  The words felt jumbled in his mouth .

Sika nodded. “That’s fair, I guess.”

Rashidi was silent.  Not because he didn’t want to reply, but because he didn’t know what to reply with .

“Well, if everything’s alright here, I’m, uh, just going to go. Have a good day Rashidi.”

Rashidi nodded dimly and then Sika was gone.

‘ _ That was… a little odd _ .’

Rashidi shook his head. Now was not the time for thinking, but for rest. Today had been a little too exciting.

* * *

When he arrived back home, waiting for him in the entrance hall was his mother, which was a surprise. Normally she would be conducting business at this time of day.

“Oh, there you are Rashidi! Your father and I have something to discuss with you,” she said to him.

Rashidi blinked. He had no idea what they could possibly want to talk about, so he just followed her as she led him into the lounge. Sitting upon a cushioned chair, talking to a servant, sat Jaime, Rashidi’s father.

“Jaime, sweety,” Masva said kindly. “Rashidi is here now.”

Jaime turned, his expression lightening a bit. “That he is! Hello, son.”

Rashidi nodded. “Hello.”

“Do you know what we want to discuss with you today?”

Rashidi shook his head.

Jaime frowned slightly. “Well… you are aware that there is every likelihood that your sister is not and will never again be strong enough to have a family, yes?”

Rashidi froze for a moment before nodding. He hadn’t told them about Retta’s improving condition, and doing it here and now would be an unwise surprise. He’d do it later.

Jaime smiled again. “Good! Then you are also aware that, as a young man of your status and station, you must eventually secure yourself a wife and heir?”

Rashidi froze again. That… no. Not only had the thought never crossed his mind, but the idea sat strangely, like a too big book on a too small shelf. Rashidi decided not to respond, instead, he fiddled with his sleeve in silence.  It helped dissipate the off feeling a little .

Jaime hummed thoughtfully, stroking his short beard. “I thought as such. That’s why your mother and I sent letters out to as many noble women as we could, hoping to have you pick a potential courting candidate from those who responded.”

_ ‘They… They want me to pick a courting candidate? From a group of women I don’t know!? _ ’

Rashidi’s mind screamed, a hollow and empty dissonance that spoke only of how  _ wrong _ the idea sounded. Panic flared its way across his whole body and Rashidi opened his mouth, intent on saying something, anything, to avoid the situation.

“But I’m already courting Nikeese!” Said his mouth.

Everyone in the room froze in surprise, including Rashidi.  He hadn’t expected to say  _ that _ .

“A-are you really? Courting that poor boy?” Masva asked after a tense moment of silence, her eyes wide beyond belief.

Rashidi nodded shakily. “Y-yes,” he lied.  He was rubbing his wrist now, the friction of his fingers a distracting sensation that was easy to hide .

Jaime frowned sternly, his eyebrows creased. “W-well that will never do! Imagine what the other nobles will think! You’ll be humiliated!”

Rashidi looked at his father in confusion. “But… I’ll be in love. That won’t matter.”

Masva sighed. “Rashidi, dear, that’s not the point! While we don’t care who you love, the other nobles will. You’re already a very strange man for a noble, and when you reveal that you’re courting another man, and one of such low status, you’ll be the laughingstock of the whole country!”

Rashidi shook his head, his eyes watery. Their disapproval, even though it was for a lie, cut deep at him.  He wanted to cry, to scream, to cover his ears and cower, but he couldn’t. It would be improper to do that in front of them .

“Rashidi…” Masva said gently. “What other people think is important, we’ve told you that many times.”

Rashidi glared at her. “I don’t care what other people think! I care what  _ you _ think, and it’s clear that you don’t do it very much.” Rashidi turned around and walked out of the room.  The spot he had been rubbing into his wrist now stung, a red mark physically left on his skin .

“Where are you going Rashidi?!” Jaime asked, more sternly than he had ever sounded in Rashidi’s life.

Rashidi stopped and turned back to face his father. “To tell Nikeese how much support he’s getting from you two. I’m sure he’ll be very pleased.” Despite the falsity of the situation, the venom in Rashidi’s voice was very real.

Rashidi breathed in slowly then once again turned to exit,  trying not to cry, or worse, flap his hands .

* * *

Rashidi was shaking as he knocked on Nikeese’s door  with a glowing fist ,  the tremors in his body making the rhythm of his knock sound wrong and unpleasant .  He wanted to get a handle on his magic, he really did, but he was too worked up to even think straight anymore.

The door opened to reveal Amour, Nikeese’s mother.

“Rashidi! What a sur…” Her face changed to something unpleasant. “Are you okay? You’re trembling … and glowing a little .”

Rashidi shook his head.  The mere idea of trying to speak right now was too much .

Amour leaned back into the house. “Nikeese! Sika!” She called. “You two need to come over here.”

Amour turned back to Rashidi, pulling him into the house by his  sparkling hand. “Come in and sit down, sweetie, everything will be alright in a moment.”

Rashidi nodded blankly in response, sitting down when he was pointed to the table.  He wished he could scratch his face, or even just rub his horns, the glowing marks were starting to grow uncomfortable.

Two bodies rushed down the stairs, one tan, the other yellow. Nikeese and Sika.

“Rashidi?” Sika asked.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, so he just shook his head instead .

Nikeese rushed over, concern written all over his face. “Rashidi, are you okay?”

“I-I-I-I-I have to t-t-tell you something,”  he managed to stutter out, voice nearly a whisper .

The concern on Nikeese’s face grew. “...Okay, just… go slow? No need to rush yourself.”

Rashidi nodded. “O-o-okay.”

He took a deep breath in and then exhaled slowly. “My p-p-parents want me to pick a p-potential w-w-w-w-wife… from a group of w-w-w-w-women I d-d-don’t know.”

Nikeese’s eyes widened. “What! That’s-”

Rashidi interrupted him. “I told th-th-them I was c-c-c-c-c-c-”  Rashidi stopped talking, grabbed his face and whined loudly. He couldn’t get the word out, it refused .  This close, the glow of his hands was still visible, even through his closed eyes.

“Rash…” Sika said, her voice soft. “Go slower.”

Rashidi whined more . “C-c-c-c-can’t.”

Nikeese clasped Rashidi’s hand gently in his own , and Rashidi vaguely wondered if the flying sparks hurt him . “Darling, try again. Please?”

Rashidi stared at him for a moment, distress whirling like violent winds in his head, and nodded.

“I p-panicked, and t-t-told th-them I was c-c-c-c-courting y-y-y-y-y-you,” he said, looking Nikeese right in the eyes. “And they told me I shouldn’t!” He yelled, pain burning in his chest as he ripped his  now shining hand from Nikeese’s grasp.

Tears bubbled forth from Rashidi’s eyes again, flowing like rivers down his face.  They itched like mad , but each time Rashidi wiped them away, more appeared.

Nikeese was gaping at him. “You… lied to your parents.”

Rashidi nodded. “I didn’t mean t-t-to! I just w-w-wanted them to  _ stop _ .”

Nikeese wrapped his arms around  Rashidi’s middle .  It felt ...really nice. Warm and tight .

“You stupid, stupid man,” Nikeese said fondly. “I take it you would like to fake-court me? To keep up appearances with your parents?”

Rashidi nodded, sniffling a little.  He could feel his hands sparking a little less the longer Nikeese embraced him.

“Alright, darling, I can do that. But you have to do something first.”

“What?” Rashidi sniffled again.

“Don’t forget to tell your sister it’s fake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if it isn't very clear what exactly his issue is, Rashidi is autistic, and it is very important to me that I portray that accurately, as I am autistic.  
> I genuinely don't know how well I can do that, but I have hope that I've done good.
> 
> Edit (May 10, 2019): added lines that showed magic is difficult to control precisely when one is very emotional


	7. Chapter 6: The Wreckage - Charl

The human, Charl, was still asleep when Renzo woke up. That didn’t matter much though, the boy needed as much sleep as he could get. Renzo wouldn’t get in the way of that. So, instead, Renzo wrapped him tighter in the blanket and set to work dismantling the camp.

The ashes of the firepit were buried and the stones used to line it were tossed far. The pouch of food and supplies was retrieved from the tree it was hidden in. Lastly, Renzo used magic to extract water from the ground to refill his canteen. The nearest water source was too far away and Renzo didn’t want to leave the sleeping boy completely alone.

As he was shoving the cork back into place on the glass canteen Renzo heard shuffling, a sign that the little human was waking up. Renzo slowly walked back to the bedroll, where the red-haired child was now sitting up, a sad and slightly confused expression firmly in place on his face.

“Good morning Charl,” Renzo greeted him.

Fresh and silent tears were his only response. Renzo didn’t react, not that he didn’t care, but because he doubted the child would want comfort from him.

“We’ll be headed out soon, it’s not safe to stay too long in one place,” Renzo explained.

The boy nodded, still silent. He had not spoken a word after revealing his name the night prior, despite several more questions being directed to him.

“Do you…” Renzo said, thinking as he spoke. “Would you like to go back? To see if we can find anything you want to keep?”

The boy didn’t respond, just bowed his head, likely in thought.

“We would have to be quick, as I said, it would not be safe to stay.”

Slowly the boy nodded, and Renzo gave him a small smile in return.

* * *

When they returned to the place where his home once stood, Charl felt tears gather at his eyes again. He was surprised because he thought he had run out.

Charl opened his mouth, ready to say something, and then closed it.

He felt Renzo touch his shoulder gently. “Take your time,” he said with his odd voice.

Charl nodded and approached the crumbled mess he once called home.

“Wait, Charl!” Renzo called. “Let me do something first, to make this easier.”

Charl stopped, turned around, and watched curiously as Renzo got down on his hands and knees, fingers spread wide on the ground.

Renzo’s hands glowed and Charl’s eyes widened in fear. The stone blocks that covered Charl’s house shuddered and slowly, ever so slowly, moved out of place. Despite how helpful that had been, Charl couldn’t help but feel his heart squeeze with panic.

“There, that should help,” Renzo announced. 

Charl nodded absently in response and continued towards the destroyed house, Renzo not far behind him.

“I…” Charl trailed off, he didn’t want to talk right now, but he had to. “I had a… toy, a chicken. It was my favourite. I want to… to find it.”

“Of course,” Renzo said softly. “I’ll help you look.”

Charl began to dig through the wreck, moving around broken bits of wood and cracked bits of dried clay that once made up the walls of his home. The dust and small splinters clung to his hands, and Charl had to stop every little bit to shudder his way past watery eyes that threatened to spill over.

After many minutes of sorting through nothing but broken pieces, Charl found something. It was a box, small and wooden. The lid was broken, and inside was his mother’s small amount of jewelry, three necklaces and four sets of earrings. He was in the ruins of his parent’s room.

Footsteps approached and stopped behind him. “What did you find?”

Charl didn’t answer and just handed over the box.

There was silence for a moment. “Do you want to take something your father owned as well?”

Charl nodded as his tears began to fall.

“Did… did he own a satchel?”

Charl nodded again.

“I think I found it. I’ll put the jewelry in there for you.”

“What… what about m-my chicken?” Charl’s voice sounded small, like a breath of air.

Silence.

“R-Renzo?” Charl asked, turning to face him.

“I’m very sorry, Charl. But I think it was destroyed.”

Renzo held up a lump of coloured cloth, ripped and insides still covered in half rotten flour. Charl instantly recognized it as the remains of his favourite toy.

Charl stared at it and felt nothing. He wasn’t angry, wasn’t sad. He just… was. There were no more feelings to have.

Renzo opened his mouth, but then closed it, humming in thought.

“We’ll take it with us. We’ll find a way to repair it.”

“Okay,” Charl replied flatly. He didn’t have the energy to care anymore.

“Is there anything else you want to take?” Renzo asked.

Charl didn’t reply.

Renzo sighed, leant over, and picked him up. “We have a long way to go today, Charl, and I won’t be carrying you the whole time. You’re too big to be carried for long.”

Charl turned his face into Renzo’s neck, feeling the smooth touch of the leather strap of his father’s satchel against his cheek. “Okay.”

“While we are walking I would like to tell you about where I come from,” Renzo said softly, his voice rumbling through both his and Charl’s chests. “Perhaps you will tell me about your home, and we'll cry together for the places we have lost.”

Renzo chuckled sadly. “Hm, yes, I think we will be doing a lot of crying together, Charl.”

Charl just buried his face further into Renzo’s neck. “If you say so.”

* * *

“I come from a far away city, hidden and long forgotten by all who do not live there.”

Charl nodded from his spot beside Renzo.

“There live all Ichneum, the children of fear, who were forced there by the anger of the other races. They all feared what the Ichneum could do, they feared that they would be destroyed by them.”

Charl frowned, confusion worming through him.

Renzo smiled at him, but it wasn’t a happy smile. “We could have ended them all, but in doing so become the monsters they saw us as. We had no choice but to be driven.”

Charl thought for a moment, a small bit of curiosity had taken root in his mind. 

“Why aren’t you in your city?” He asked quietly.

Renzo sighed, sounding very tired. “I can’t tell you, knowing would only hurt you.”

Charl didn’t get it but nodded anyway. One day he would understand.

Late that night, while Charl lay awake, not even attempting to rest, he could hear Renzo crying in his sleep. It felt wrong to listen to it, like a secret he wasn’t meant to know. But, it made him feel better.

It was comforting to know that adults had nightmares too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my biggest worry with this slice of the story is that Charl and Renzo will come off as boring characters, and I've tried my best to make them appealing, but... I don't know how well I achieved that. Please tell me if I missed that mark, as I want this story to be as entertaining to read as it is to write.


	8. Chapter 7: The Talk - Maradalel (Alternatively: Of Boys and Girls and the Games that they Play)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that "Chapter 4: The Party and The Piercing" has been updated prior to the uploading of this chapter, though it is not necessary to re-read it, as no major details have been added. But, it does make a few things much clearer to the reader, especially to those that have not read the prologue.
> 
> Edit (May 20, 2019. Minor): Corrected Old Tongue grammar.  
> Edit (May 30, 2019. Minor): Corrected the use of "Kola(l)" *son(s)* to "Kana(l)–a" *boy(s)* during Maradalel's little explanation at the end

Maradalel was miserable. Not being allowed out of his room for the entire time he bled had worn him thin. His skin showed only azure on it, his tiredness too great for him to be angry or sad.

Slowly, Maradalel dressed, taking great care that he did not bind his chest too tightly. He still wanted to breathe today, especially if he was going to be yelled at later.

First, he wrapped the cover of cloth around his middle, and then slowly wound tighter and tighter with strips of linen. Finally, he put on his loincloth and leggings and was ready to face the day.

He wasn’t ready to face his father though.

“ _ Tilled stanat la loca ii lav radin, kana—a? _ ”  _ Why are you out of your room, boy? _ Danda—el asked, accusation firmly planted in his voice as his skin flared a dangerous red.

“ _ Ta poset nu visisad pan shila sinak hazokil, bala. Ta pamedat stana loca killet _ ,”  _ I have not bled for 15 hazokil, father. I can be out now, _ Maradadalel replied flatly.

Danda—el stared at him for a long tense moment, skin fading slightly. “ _ La wakov atta ra, od stana humazad _ .”  _ You will train all day, or be punished. _

“ _ On, bala _ ,”  _ Yes, father _ , Maradalel said with a slow nod.

* * *

Maradalel whacked the straw dummy with his practise sword, aiming for the clearly marked vital spots.

_ Whack. _

A hit in the stomach.

_ Whack. _

A hit in the neck.

_ Shhhhh. _

A stab in the heart.

“ _ Alo—ra _ , Maradalel.”

_ Slap. _

A hit on flesh.

“ _ Alo—ra _ , Andarada—el,” Maradalel replied with a slight smile, his sword resting its flat side on the boy’s cyan and orange arm.

Slowly, cerise and more orange all rose to the surface of Andarada—el’s skin. He looked a little panicked if Maradalel thought about it.

“Are you okay?” Maradalel asked.

Andarada—el blinked slowly. “Uh... yeah.”

“You shouldn’t be in the practice fields without a weapon or armour,” Maradalel stated.

“I… I know.”

Maradalel raised a brow. “Then why?”

“I thought you would hear me coming.”

Maradalel levelled a flat look at him. “I was vigorously hitting a target, I clearly wasn’t paying attention.”

“I, uh, I realized that.”

Maradalel drew his sword back. “So… why are you here?”

“To talk to a pretty boy.”

Maradalel felt himself turn orange with embarrassment. “Oh. I, uh, I take it your father isn’t here then.”

Andarada—el smiled, his skin turning completely mint. “No, he isn’t.”

Maradalel went silent, feeling conflicted. He wanted to talk to Andarada—el, but he also knew that if he did, he would probably leave the interaction feeling much more confused than he had entering it.

Maradalel scanned around, looking over the other trainees. None of them were looking this way, nor were any of the instructors. That was good.

“Why are you covering your chest?” Andarada—el asked. 

Maradalel wasn’t going to answer that, despite the lack of judgement in the question, so he chose to flip the situation on Andarada—el.

“Why did you touch my face last time we spoke?”

Andarada—el flushed orange, though some mint and yellow were also present. “B-because I wanted to.”

“Oh.” That… hadn’t worked as intended, but he had an answer now, albeit one that he didn’t know how to feel about. Was he  _ pretty _ enough that Andarada—el thought of him as a girl? Or was he something different, something forbidden? Was he a  _ Jolog’Amali—el _ , a ‘same lover’?

Maradalel didn’t know which option was better. Or rather, he did, but neither option ended very well, for either of them.

“You know I am  _ e—a _ , male, and not  _ e—i _ , female, correct?” Maradalel said.

“ _ On _ ,”  _ Yes _ , was the immediate reply.

Maradalel stood in silence. That… was not the answer he expected, and by Guardians was it making his head hurt thinking about the implications.  _ Jolog’Amali—el _ rang in his mind like a distant echo as he remembered the brilliant cerise colour of lust that often covered Andarada—el’s skin.

“So... would you like to engage in some ‘swordplay’?” Andarada—el asked with a wink.

Maradalel didn’t reply for a long purposeful moment. He was not prepared at all to deal with this boy and he needed more time to  _ think _ .

“...I’m supposed to train all day, so that would be quite helpful,” he eventually settled on saying.

Andarada—el flushed purple and mint, with a little bit of yellow. Trust and pride, an interesting, but friendly reaction. Maradalel couldn’t help but want to keep seeing such reactions, but... the worry of getting caught, of his secret being found out was still ever present, and it would likely never go away.

So, instead of dwelling, Maradalel lifted his sword and waited for Andarada—el’s first strike.

Andarada—el stepped in and swung at Maradalel. In response, he sidestepped and raised a block, knocking the blade away. Maradalel then made a forward stab at his opponent, a move Andarada—el easily dodged. But, Maradalel had planned that, and he did a spin to the left, hitting Andarada—el’s sloppy block. 

Again and again, their blades met: strike, stab, slash, dodge, repeat, mix it up. Each thunk and swish was carefully executed and slowly Andarada—el became orange and chartreuse with worry. Clearly, Maradalel was winning, and he couldn’t help but wonder if his father would be proud of him for being better than the son of his second-in-command.

He did another spin, this time away from Andarada—el's next strike and immediately turned to block the oncoming blade. The impact threw Andarada—el off balance and made him fall. Maradalel, seeing his chance, lunged forward and pinned Andarada—el to the ground with his foot, declaring him the winner as he rested his blade against the other’s neck.

For a long moment, the two just… stared at each other, no sound between them other than the heavy sound of their breaths.

“So, what did you think?” Maradalel asked.

Andarada—el’s skin flared up in a variety of colours: yellow, cerise, purple, cyan, and even a little orange.

“I think it’s pretty clear you know how to handle a ‘sword’,” Andarada—el replied, shaping the final word in his mouth in just a way that made Maradalel sure he wasn’t talking about blades.

Maradalel raised an eyebrow in judgement despite feeling orange taking over his skin. “You don’t know the first thing about my ‘sword’.”

Andarada—el laughed. “I guess I deserve that,” he said. “What about me though, what do you think of my skills?”

Maradalel lifted his blade. “You’re very skilled for someone I’ve never seen in the practice fields before.” Maradalel then sat down on the ground just a bit away from Andarada—el.

The other boy sat up as he turned many different colours: red, blue, orange, and green. “That’s because my father wants me to avoid you. He doesn’t like the General all that much, and he thinks me being around you will make me become like him.”

Maradalel blinked in surprise. That was a lot of honesty right there.

“So I take it you’re here without him knowing?”

Andarada—el laughed, perhaps a bit too loudly. “For all the rules he gives me, he’s a little too busy to make sure I follow them. I basically do what I want, as long as it can’t get back to him.”

Andarada—el smirked, turning mint once more. Maradalel thought it looked good on him. “Like say, making a pretty boy flustered at his own party, where there are too many guests to be sure I ever did anything at all.”

Maradalel was sure he was completely orange now. “That’s… good to know.”

Andarada—el hummed thoughtfully. “I’m really good at creating stolen moments. Do you wanna make one with me?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Maradalel straightened, panic surging through him. “Uh, no, that’s okay, but, uh, maybeanothertimethough!?”

Andaradael—el was chartreuse now. “So that’s… not a ‘no’?”

Maradalel scanned the field quickly, happy to see that no one was looking their way.

“That’s uh, yeah, that’s not a ‘no’.”

Andarada—el flushed a bright yellow. “Sweet.” Then he waggled his eyebrows again, he probably thought it made him look cool. “Much like kissing you will be like, I imagine.”

Maradalel thinned his lips. “You’re… really embarrassing, you know that?”

Andarada—el was smiling. “Yeah, I do. I can  _ see _ how orange you are.”

“Have…” Maradalel took a quick breath. “Have you kissed many people?”

Andarada—el made a thoughtful face. “Mmmmm, not  _ too many _ , but you’re the first one I’ve wanted to talk to as well as to kiss.”

Oh. That’s... very flattering. “Th-thanks.”

Andarada—el turned mint…. Again. Maradalel was almost expecting it now. “You’re very welcome.”

* * *

“ _ Ta sonod kirad la stanad speta—ti oo kola ii Visistale—el, um kirad la aklad takalk gel—a un uv da _ ,” _ I heard that you were talking to Visistale—el’s son, and that you won against him in a fight, _ Danda—el said the moment that Maradalel returned home.

“ _ Ta hallad, stanad kirad nu ill? _ ”  _ I did, was that not good? _ Maradalel asked hesitantly.

Red bloomed over his father’s skin. “ _ Ot, kirad stanad ill, ee kim stanad nu kim ma speta—ti abagaz beso—ti… yemen yaman. _ ”  _ No, that was good, but what wasn’t was you talking about kissing… each other. _

Maradalel felt emotion rise in him, but, he needed to control  _ what _ emotion. He couldn’t show fear, that would just mark him as guilty. No, right now he needed to be angry.

“ _ Tilled allad ta hallat kirad?! Ge—a stanat uv kana—a, um kanal—a hallat nu beso yaman kanal—a! _ ”  _ Why would I do that?! He’s a boy, and boys don’t kiss other boys! _

Danda—el considered him for a moment. “ _ Ot... ulu hallat nu. Abraka inaga mer pot kirad yom _ .”  _ No… they don’t. Make sure it stays that way. _

Danda—el then walked off, leaving Maradalel to stew in confusion and anger and fear. He was going to have to be more careful now.


	9. Chapter 8: The Scare - Charl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in like 20 mins, but it was *good* so I decided to post it right away. Please excuse any mistakes, i'm just really excited about this one.

Renzo was crushing leaves between two rocks. He hadn’t told Charl why, just that it was important and not to interrupt him. The shhhk, shhhk, shhhk sound of grinding rocks was low and quiet, and also the only sound except for the wind.

Renzo looked over and smiled. “I can hear your curiosity from here. Don’t worry, I will explain. Just… once it’s relevant.”

Charl didn’t want to know, he just wanted to lie down. To go back home. To play with Alice and Lucy and all the other animals he had been friends with. But he couldn’t.

He would have cried again if he had tears left. But he didn’t.

The grating sound stopped and Charl snapped back to the present.

“You need protecting,” Renzo said, not making any sense. “And I won’t always be around to protect you.”

The weasel man beckoned him over and Charl went. He didn’t really have a choice anymore, but even if he did, he would gladly follow Renzo anywhere. He was kind, even when the rest of the world wasn’t.

Renzo was mixing the ground leaves with a fluid, oil of some sort maybe? Charl didn’t know.

“I need you to take off your clothes,” Renzo said. “I’m going to apply this to your skin.”  
Charl hesitated but did as he was requested. “What… What is it… and what will it do?” He asked once he was completely exposed.

Renzo dabbed a short stick into the mixture and began to draw strange symbols on Charl’s body. “It’s a dye, it will stain your skin for a few days, but it’ll need to be left undisturbed for a hazok or so. When it’s done, it will be magic, magic that will protect you when I can not.”

Charl flinched a little, not only because Renzo had tickled him with the stick, but also because of the mention of magic.

Renzo sighed. “I know, but I won’t always be there, please understand this will only help you.”

Charl’s lip wobbled. “I-I-I know, b-but… It’s so easy to remember what happened... and to forget what else it can do.”

Renzo patted Charl’s hip, possibly in an attempt to comfort him, since he was crouched too low to get at his shoulder. His eyes looked sad as he smiled.

“It’ll get easier to forget, every time you remember, and one day you may not remember for very very long times. But you will remember, eventually. I just hope I can help you get there to that eventually.”

Charl’s heart throbbed. “Th-thank you.”

Renzo pointed at a symbol on Charl’s chest. “This is going to make a shield for you if ever someone who isn’t me approaches.”

Charl nodded. That seemed… okay. It was at least better than having nothing.

Charl still didn’t want it anywhere near him, but he would let it stay if only to make Renzo happy.

“But it won't last long, maybe half a hazok or so at most. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get to you in time… Let’s not worry about what’ll happen if I don’t.” Renzo smiled a little.

Charl tried smiling back, but it didn’t quite work.

Renzo sighed again. “Go sit down by the fire and keep warm, you won’t be able to wear clothes for a while. I’ll make us some food while you wait.”

Charl nodded.

* * *

Charl stared at the stick of rabbit meat, wishing instead for something different. They had been having rabbit for days, a constant reminder of just where Charl wasn’t.

Charl shook his head and forced himself to eat. He would regret it if he didn’t.

“Sometimes I don’t want to eat either, Charl,” Renzo said. “It seems like too much.”

Charl shuddered. “Reminds me of home. That I’m not there.”

Renzo nodded. “Of course,” he said quietly.

Quickly, Renzo finished off his meal and then crouched in front of Charl. “I’m going to charge up the runes now. They’ll power themselves afterwards, just need a little push.”

Charl nodded slowly as Renzo’s glowing hands touched his chest. Slowly the red-brown stain on his skin lit up, turning to a golden white light that quickly faded to a dim purple glow.

“There you go. Safe and sound.”

The world shuddered and shook, causing Charl to fall forwards into Renzo’s lap.

“I… I appear to have spoken too soon,” Renzo said, voice wavering slightly.

The world shook again and the very air appeared to rip apart, leaving behind a pure black space.

It appeared to be eating away at the plants that it was touching, but everything else was safe.

Renzo wrapped his arms around Charl. “Don’t touch that Charl, don’t you ever,  _ ever _ , touch anything like that.”

Charl shook his head quickly, fear quickening his actions. “I-I won’t!”

The arms around him tightened. “G-good.”

Charl grabbed onto Renzo’s hands. “I’m scared.”

Renzo’s head lowered into Charl’s hair. “I know, I’m scared too.”

“W-will we have to leave now?”

Renzo nodded. “We will, quite quickly.”

Neither of them moved. Charl didn’t want to, he was too busy shaking in fear.

“Do-, do you know what caused it?” Charl asked.

Renzo didn’t speak for a moment. “I might.”

Charl closed his eyes tight. “Don’t tell me.”

Renzo tightened his grip for just a moment. “I won’t, I promise.”


	10. Chapter 9: The Touch - Zephyr

Zephyr woke up when her shoulder was shaken. Startled, like anyone else might be, she immediately punched the offensive person in the face.

“Ow,” Etesians said flatly, clearly not in pain.

“You didn’t have to wake me so rudely, father.”

Etesians hummed as he stood back up. “No, but it worked, albeit not quite as planned.” He chuckled.

Zephyr gave him a halfhearted glare. “Why did you wake me up instead of waiting for me?”

“Because I just found out he had another night terror and I wanted to let you know not to worry when you couldn’t find him.”

Regret and concern washed through her like a sudden wind. “Oh. Did he tell you what it was about? Or did he go directly to the animals?”

“The animals.”

Zephyr swore. “That sucks.”

Etesians nodded. “Indeed. Now… while I have your attention and your wakefulness, I would like to let you know it would probably be a good idea to plan what you wish to teach the others today? Hmm?”

Zephyr sighed. “Yeah…. Probably,” she said petulantly.

“So…” Etesians said, raising an eyebrow.

Zephyr gave him a blank look. “Stances, we’ll start with stances… And maybe some basics too.”

Etesians smiled. “Good enough!”

Zephyr sighed. “Thanks.”

Etesians’ smile softened. “You know… if she were here, I believe your mother would be quite proud of the woman you’ve become, even though you’ve grown a pair of wings and countless scales and developed an ego larger than a mountain.”

Zephyr jokingly punched Etesians again as both of them laughed. “Father!”

Etesians sparkled with amusement. “Now, how about you head over to the sparring chamber, you actually managed to sleep in for once.”

Zephyr’s eyes widened in panic. “What!? Why would you just spring that on me! Father, that’s rude!” She then vaulted to her feet and ran out of the room, the echoing laughter of her father trailing behind her.

* * *

Zephyr was about to enter the sparing cavern when she heard talking. She paused, curious about what was being said.

“Hey, why isn’t lil’ greeny here? Too busy tending to the plants to learn with us?” Zephyr heard Chinook ask meanly, clearly in reference to Wally. 

“Yeah! If we gotta be here then so should Williwaw!” Rashabar practically yelled in agreement. 

Zephyr didn’t like the sound of that. Wally didn’t need their teasing right now. She could feel anger bubbling now, like a slow boil. She wasn’t going to act on it, she couldn’t, not here. She needed to teach. So she slowly made her way into the cavern, so as to not draw attention to herself.

Chinook chortled. It was an ugly sound, full of cruelty. “It’ll be fun to watch him scream as he fails to fight back, and even more fun when we get to beat him up in the name of  _ training _ .”

Zephyr’s rage exploded and she stomped her way over to Chinook, each step resonating with her feelings as the sound reverberated in the large cavern.

“DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM!” She screamed. “HE’S MINE!!”

A hand touched Zephyr’s shoulder, and she would have attacked the person who touched her while she was this angry, if it weren’t for the extremely concerned and slightly judgemental face of Khamseen.

“What’s going on here?” He asked calmly.

Zephyr replied with shouting. “HE SAID HE WAS GOING TO USE TRAINING AS AN EXCUSE TO BEAT UP WALLY!”

Khamseen nodded. “I see. That’s definitely not good. But, you shouldn’t have yelled in his face like that. You’re an adult, you should know better.”

“I don’t care!” Zephyr replied, a little quieter than before. “He threatened to hurt Wally, he can’t do that. Wally’s  _ MINE _ .”

Khamseen literally took a step back from how forcefully Zephyr had spoken. She felt good about that. However, Khamseen’s face quickly changed from shocked to extremely concerned and all of Zephyr’s good feelings evaporated.

“Williwaw’s not your slave, Zephyr. While I’m sure many here would argue his only use would be to become one, he currently isn’t. You can’t claim him as yours like that. That’s not how dragons work,” Khamseen said with perfect kindness in his tone.

Confusion flowed through Zephyr. “But… He’s my best friend. No one else can have him or hurt him. He’s special… He’s like… a treasure to me.”

With every word Zephyr had spoken Khamseen’s face had become more and more angry and concerned.

“Zephyr,” he said firmly. “You can’t say that.”

Zephyr wanted to punch him, very seriously considered it even, so instead, she just walked out.

* * *

Zephyr marched her way to where the animals were. Her animals were lovely, frightened and hurt little things. She cared for them much like she cared for Wally and her father. They needed help and she gave it to them.

Wally was asleep in the corner, arms wrapped around Beva, a female fox that refused to leave, even once she was healthy again. It was cute. Too bad Zephyr didn’t have time for cute.

Sitting down roughly, Zephyr began petting a nearby injured rabbit. Its foot had been broken nearby about a day ago. Zephyr would return it when it healed.

Despite the softness of fur beneath her skin and scales though, Zephyr could only feel her anger grow. They had wanted to hurt  _ Wally _ . No one hurts Wally! That’s just not allowed!

Zephyr’s hands were shaking, panic and anger and fear and so many other emotions coursing through her. Slowly, they began to glow, white sparks flying off of them.

Rudo, a fox whose leg had been removed, made a noise at her, and that did it. That broke her. Angry and upset tears flowed down Zephyr’s face as the glow of her hands extended down to her elbows  and the marks on her forehead and horns started to shine .

Why couldn’t they just accept Wally? What was wrong with him being different? Why were dragons so  _ stubborn? _ Zephyr didn’t understand,  _ couldn’t understand _ . Even Wally, with all his differences, was a real dragon. Even he understood.

The glow of her hands dimmed, and then reversed, changing to a sickly black aura that crackled like thunder and looked like thorns. Zephyr… Zephyr didn’t know what to think and could only watch in fear and horror as the aura seemed to eat away at the air around it.

A small bolt of the restless energy reached out and managed to touch the injured rabbit.

Zephyr watched the rabbit die, it’s breathing suddenly halted, not understanding one bit of what was happening. Her father had once taught magic in a human city, and he had never,  _ ever _ , mentioned a power like this.

Zephyr’s sadness and fear eventually won out over her anger and confusion, and the sickly aura faded, leaving only questions behind as Zephyr listened to Wally sleep on, unknowing of what had just occurred.

* * *

Williwaw “Wally” Woods was a lonely dragon. For a long time he had been forced to take care of himself, to survive on his own. It was harsh and empty and dangerous out there, and he had been constantly hungry and in pain.   
One day, out of desperation for something to eat, he’d stolen food from the garden of a powerful solitary dragon and his daughter. He was caught, but instead of killing him though, he had been fed a meal and given a home. It had been too good to be true, but yet here he still was.

Etesians and Zephyr were too kind, too nice, compared to most dragons. They were very human that way. Zephyr much more so, even when she was angry. Zephyr was his only friend, his constant protector. A pillar of strength for Wally to lean on.

Wally awoke to the sound of crying, but it wasn’t his own, as he would have expected. Turning his head brought the sight of a crumpled Zephyr sitting in the corner, a limp rabbit held in her hands. She looked so sad, so broken.

“Zephyr?” Wally asked, his voice nearly a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

Zephyr shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Wally scooted over and wrapped her in a hug as best he could. His wings then wrapped around her as well. Zephyr needed a wall, protection from the world.

“Everything will be alright, Zephyr,” Wally whispered to her. “Everything is always alright when we’re together.”

Zephyr shook her head. “I don’t know if that’s true anymore, Wally.”

Wally smiled at her. “Then we’ll just have to make it be true. It shouldn’t be hard, you make everything alright all the time.”

Zephyr chuckled a little. “Yeah… I do, don’t I?”

Wally tightened his hold around his best friend, humming contently. “That’s why you’re the best.”

Zephyr laughed until she cried again, but it was okay. It would always be okay, as long as they were together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope Wally didn't come off as super childish in this chapter, his dialogue seemed as such to me, but I couldn't think of a better way to word what he had to say.


	11. Chapter 10: The Blood - The Twins (Alternatively: The Festival is often the best hunting ground)

Retta was dreaming. She could tell because Nikeese was there, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

“You look very pretty in your sleep Retta, but I need to talk to you,” his voice said, echoing in her mind like a lost ripple.

“You gotta wake up Retta,” Nikeese said again, and again, and again, and again.

Retta woke up as Nikeese shook her shoulder.

“There you are, finally awake are you, dear?” He asked with a smile.

Retta blinked, wondering just how much of her dream had been real.

“Uh, yes.”

“How much time are you spending asleep these days?”

“Less than I used to, but I’m still asleep for more than half the day,” Retta answered, not liking how whiney she sounded.

“Are you aware then, that your lovely twin told your parents that he’s courting me?”

Retta froze. “He  _ WHAT?! _ ”

“Your parents ambushed him with news that he needed to pick a bride from a list of candidates they had made, which made him panic and blurt out that he’s courting me, which of course they didn’t like.”

Retta felt her face scrunch up in confusion. “But they love you?”

Nikeese laughed. “Not when I’m a poor boy, surrounded by rumours, courting their only child with a hope of having children.”

Retta swore. “They’re so stupid, letting  _ image _ control them like that.”

Nikeese nodded. “Indeed, dear.”

Retta stared at him for a moment. “You’re going to have to stop calling me that, if you’re going to pretend to court my brother.”

Nikeese hummed and then shrugged. “How about no?”

Retta laughed. “Fair, fair.”

Then, Retta noticed something, something she had been too drowsy to notice until now.

“Why aren’t you sitting down?”

Nikeese winced. “My back is sore, because of some work I did recently… Like very recently” He then patted a pouch of coins that was tied to his belt. “I had to do a lot of it, as I won’t be doing it again for the foreseeable future and I needed the funds.”

Nikeese then smiled oddly and gulped, his throat constraining against the thin red ribbon choker around his neck. Retta couldn’t help but stare at it for a long moment. It was a rare thing for him to wear, something that was bought for him years ago by Rashidi when he noticed Nikeese looking at it during a market visit. It wrapped around his neck like a bloody cut.

Retta knew exactly the kind of work he had done if he was willing to say any of this to her, if he was facing her with all these signs just screaming to be analyzed.

She looked up at him. “Thank you for telling me, Nikeese.”

He sighed in relief, his smile turning sunny and bright. “No, thank you.”

“I take it you quit to stop the rumours, rumours I never could confirm by the way, despite how true they are? Or rather, were?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah… I didn’t want it to cause extra harm to your brother. Past rumours aren’t as dangerous as current ones,” Nikeese said slowly, as if afraid of the words he was saying.

Retta stared at her best friend once more, reading in him so many nervous tells and fears. He was confirming many of her suspicions today, it seemed.

“He loves you, you know. Not that he realizes it,” she said. Nikeese should know that, if he was in love with Rashidi.

Nikeese laughed, sounding just a little broken. “I know. I’ve known for a long time that he loves me.”

Retta nodded. “I thought so. Just… don’t hurt him, okay?”

“I’ll do my best not to, my dear, you know that.”

Retta smiled. “Good.”

Nikeese smiled back. “Say… do you-”

Rashidi ran into the room, looking like a frazzled mess. “You two are going to want to hear this!”

Retta blinked. “What’s wrong?”

Rashidi panted for a moment. “There-, People have-, Something is attacking people in the city! And it’s draining their bodies of blood. No one knows what’s causing it!”

Retta’s mouth dropped open. “What in the world could do  _ that?! _ ”

Rashidi shook his head. “I don’t knowwwwwww,” he  whined , holding his head in his hands.

Nikeese quickly walked over, placing his hands overtop of Rashidi’s. “Hey, hey, darling, it’s alright. You don’t need to know what’s causing it, you just need to find out.”

Rashidi hiccuped. “B-b-but, I don’t know where to  _ start! _ ”

Nikeese wrapped Rashidi in a hug and Retta couldn’t help but feel a longing to be wrapped up too. “Shhh, shh, shh, darling. Worry about that later. For now, just tell me what you’re going to do tomorrow, hm? When the festival is happening?”

Retta smirked. “Oh, are you going to go on a  _ date _ with Nikeese tomorrow? Are you two going to dance and sing like a proper couple?”

Rashidi’s face turned a shade darker, his eyes going wide. “M-m-m-maybe!”

Retta laughed as Nikeese carefully nuzzled into her brother’s hair, just barely not scraping himself on Rashidi’s horns. “Of course we are, darling,” Nikeese mumbled at him. “All the lasting couples go to festivals together. Wouldn’t that be just the thing to prove to your parents how serious we are?”

Rashidi turned his face towards the floor and mumbled a shy, “yeah”.

Nikeese pressed a kiss to Rashidi’s temple. “Good boy.”

Rashidi’s expression changed to something so soft that Retta had to physically turn away.

* * *

Nikeese was holding his hand.  The warmth of it spread through his fingers and the pressure of it was comforting in such a way that Rashidi could almost ignore the fact that there were so many people making so much noise .

Nikeese was talking to a man at a stall who was selling special trinkets just for the festival. They were charms, meant for necklaces or some other piece of jewelry. Flat and thin, with a lot of empty space, they were intricate, forming the shape of various animals centred in circles. They were Guardians, charms of protection. Nikeese was trying to barter with the man for one with a swan, to represent Adora, Guardian of love.

Nikeese was the best, truly. He didn’t have to do this, to pretend for Rashidi to this extent. To hold his hand, to barter for jewelry he wanted only  so he could put it in his mouth . But Nikeese did.

Rashidi smiled to himself as the people around him began to sing, hums and chirps of gratitude and thanks for Adora, who was now parading slowly through the streets, glowing like candlelight even in the day.

It was a lot, and Rashidi tightened his grip on Nikeese’s hand.

“Darling?” Nikeese asked, turning towards him.

Rashidi shook his head. “I’m fine, Nik.”

Nikeese frowned, just slightly.  Rashidi wasn’t sure what that meant . “Alright.”

Nikeese turned back to the man in the stall as the noise around them swelled. Adora was coming closer.  Rashidi felt only dread as the living god approached. She brought only noise, discordance,  _ sound _ .

Rashidi clenched his eyes as the buzz of the crowd finally wormed its way into his head, drawing from him, draining him. Rashidi could hear everyone and nothing. Every word that was spoken and sung and whispered all passed through his mind and he knew each of them. But, they also mixed together, like splatters of different paints all clumped together.

Rashidi couldn’t be here anymore .

“Nikeese?” he said quietly,  too quietly to be heard , as he tugged on the hand in his. “Nikeese, I want to leave.”

Nikeese turned around again, and his face became instantly worried.

“Sweetheart, why are you crying?”

Rashidi blinked.  _ What _ .

He brought his other hand up to his face and felt the wetness of tears.

“Oh…” he whispered, barely breathing.  He hadn’t noticed, he had only noticed the noise, the pure cacophony that surrounded him .

Rashidi squeezed his eyes closed again as Adora passed right behind him, bringing with her the greatest swell of noise yet. It was too much, too much! Too much! _Too much!_ _Too much!!_

The hand he was holding tugged and he followed, vision too blurry with tears and mind too full of sound for him to care where he was going. He merely gripped tighter,  letting the gentle pain of his bones grinding ground him in time .

The world dimmed into shadow, and the hand let go. The sound was less now.

“Rashidi, darling, sweetheart, are you okay?” Nikeese asked.

Rashidi bit his lip,  needing something to feel , and shook his head.

The man in front of him sighed. “I’m sorry Rashidi, I didn’t think that it would be like this.”

Rashidi bit his lip harder and shook his head steadily. He didn’t need an apology from  _ Nikeese _ . He hadn’t done anything wrong.

An amused breath. “I thought you’d say that, darling.”

Blood spilled in Rashidi’s mouth as his teeth broke his lip and tears flowed again .

“Nono! Rashidi, darling, no! Don’t do that!” Nikeese pleaded, reaching up to wipe at Rashidi’s face with his sleeve.

Rashidi shook his head, causing the blood and tears to smear.  He wanted to talk, he did! He just… couldn’t do it. Not right now .

“Is he alright?” Rasped a voice, the words sounding weird and off.

Rashidi and Nikeese both turned to face the newcomer.

“No, he’s not. Please leave,” Nikeese requested, voice strained.

Blood dripped down Rashidi’s chin and the strange person’s odd orange eyes followed it. “He’s bleeding. I can help.”

Nikeese narrowed his gaze. “We don’t need your help. Again, please leave.”

The stranger attacked. His hands lashing out like whips as his clawed fingers grabbed at Rashidi’s face. When he opened his mouth prominent fangs glistened even in the shade of the alley.

_ CRACK! _

The stranger fell, revealing a crater in the brickwork behind him. In the centre of the dent were three translucent blades, shimmering like rainbow mist, that quickly faded out of existence.

Nikeese had killed… it. It was an it, because it was one of those monsters, those things that were draining people of blood.

“Rashidi! Are you okay!? Did it hurt you!?” Nikeese practically yelled  at him, the marks on his pointed ears still aglow with magic .

Rashidi only blinked .

“Rashidi! Please!”

He opened his mouth and  released a long whine , shaking his head.

Hands grabbed his own. “Sweetheart… squeeze twice if you’re okay, please”

Rashidi squeezed twice.

A sigh of relief and then a body collapsing against him. “Good,” Nikeese sighed into him.

“Yeah,” Rashidi said,  voice barely above a whisper . “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might just be the most intense thing I've ever written, tbh


	12. Chapter 11: The Rains - Maradalel

A knock sounded on the plain wood door that blocked Maradalel’s room from the rest of the house. Looking up revealed his mother opening the door.

“ _ Mali? _ ”  _ Mother? _ He asked cautiously.

Her lips thinned as her face tightened. She looked disappointed. “ _ Lav pulu stanat killan? Kana—a ii Visistale—el? _ ”  _ Your friend is here? Visistale—el’s boy? _

Maradalel felt himself gape for a few seconds. “ _ G-ge—a stanat?! _ ”  _ H-he is?! _

Modara nodded slowly. “ _ Ge—a stanad essinna sele lal. _ ”  _ He was eager to see you _ .

Yellow, cyan, and chartreuse blossomed on Maradalel’s skin. “Oh.”

“ _ Stana bulaw it ki del shila del—ni hazok, od lav bala allav stana ladu. _ ”  _ Be home by the 22nd hazok, or your father will be angry _ . Modara said sternly.

Maradalel nodded, rushing out of the room and down to the entrance hall.

“ _ Alo—ra, pulu Andarada—el! _ ”  _ Hello, friend Andarada—el! _ Maradalel called out in greeting.

“ _ Alo—ra, pulu, _ ” He responded gently, skin becoming a vibrant yellow.

“Why are you here?” Maradalel asked. “Aren’t you worried about your father finding out you came over?”

Andarada—el chuckled. “He and the General are in a tactical meeting, discussing how likely an attack from another city-state might be. Even though it’s the last day of the  _ kika _ , they still have to work. Neither of them will ever know I was here.”

Maradalel frowned but accepted the reasoning. “So… what do you want to do?”

“Well… I have a few ideas.”

“Like?”

A smirk formed on a now mint and yellow face. “Swimming.”

Maradalel froze. “ _ Ot, _ ”  _ No, _ he said stiffly.

Andarada—el turned cyan and chartreuse and blue as his face scrunched in confusion. “Alright… we can go to the library then. I haven’t been in a while and I’ve heard they’ve added a whole section just for playing board games.”

Andarada—el’s eyes were sparkling just a little and there was no way Maradalel was going to say no to that.

“Well… It sounds better than the nothing I was going to do.”

A smile on a yellow face was his response.

* * *

Maradalel stared at the board in front of him, amused by how few pieces Andarada—el had left.

“You’re not all that good at this, are you?” He asked as he capturing Andarada—el’s final Priest.

The red bubbles on Andarada—el’s skin grew in number. “Normally I am, you’re just… better.” He moved a piece, which forced another to become vulnerable.

Maradalel smiled, feeling pleased. “Well, you’ve lasted a lot longer than most of my opponents, so I guess you must be.” He captured the vulnerable piece and placed Andarada—el’s General in check, ending the game.

Andarada—el swore. “I didn’t see that.”

“I will admit you did make a sloppy move or two, but overall you are good.”

Andarada—el glared. “You’re just better?”

“Yup!”

Andarada—el sighed, turning a pale blue. Maradalel felt concern take a foothold in his chest.

“Did… did you have fun, at least?” Maradalel asked carefully.

Andarada—el blinked, turning cyan. “What? Of course, I was playing against you. I’m just disappointed I couldn’t see your strategy.”

Maradalel felt…  _ something _ spark in his heart.

“Oh.”

Neither spoke for a moment, apparently too surprised by each other to do much else.

“We should probably head home now, right?” Andarada—el asked.

“It’s not the 22nd  _ hazok _ yet, though?”

Andarada—el laughed. “Maybe I wanna hang out at your house, did you think of that?”

Once again Maradalel was shocked into silence.

“…Okay.”

* * *

It was raining out. The droplets of wetness splattered across the stone tiles that lined the streets, dripping down the walls and filling the reservoirs and aqueducts that sprawled through the city.

The water clung to Andarda—el’s antlers, making them turn a slight shade darker. They seemed to curl slightly in the moist air, even though Maradalel knew that couldn’t be the case.

“You’re soaked,” Andarada—el noted dumbly.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Maradalel replied feeling exceptionally sarcastic.

“Nono, I mean your clothes! You’re going to need new clothes, or else you’ll get sick.”

“Yeah, well so will you!” Maradalel exclaimed.

A mischievous smile slowly crept its way onto Andarada—el’s face. “So… Can I borrow some of yours?”

Maradalel rolled his eyes as they finally reached the door of his house. “Of course you can. They’ll be a bit small on you, but I won’t leave you to sit in wet clothing!”

“Sweet.”

Quick as he could, Maradalel ran to his room and pulled out a spare set of leggings and a shirt. While the boy didn’t normally wear one, like most Andatamel didn’t, Maradalel thought he would like to have the extra warmth.

“You can change in that room just over there,” Maradalel said, pointing once he’d handed the bundle over to Andarada—el.

A blink. “Why can’t I just change in your room.”

“B-because I-I-I don’t want you t-to.”

Andarada—el gave him a weird look, but complied.

Sighing in relief, Maradalel then went to change as quickly as possible. It was going to take awhile.

Slowly, Maradalel untied the knot that kept his binding in place, and unwound it layer by layer, peeling the wet cloth off of his body. It was soaked completely through, and Maradalel had visions of rashes running though his mind as he exposed more and more of his chest from under the tight and wet fabric.

Maradalel then stripped out of his leggings and dropped his loincloth, revealing to his room his secret once more. It always hurt a little, to remember that he wasn’t actually a boy, at least, not entirely. Not in the way his parents truly wanted. 

Normally he felt okay when he remembered. Just a twinge of wrongness accompanying the spark of recognition.  
But, now though? Now just felt raw. Like the world itself was watching him. He wasn’t entirely sure why.

Shaking his head, Maradalel redressed, taking extra care with his binding. He didn’t want to hurt himself so soon after removing it. After that, redressing went smoothly, and soon he felt almost dry again. Only his hair was still damp.

“Maradalel?” asked a nervous voice from the door. “Would you like a blanket?”

Maradalel smiled at his friend, feeling like he’d given a gift. “Yeah, I’d love a blanket.”

A half smirk half smile. “What about…” A lick of his lips. “About sharing a blanket?”

Maradalel giggled, feeling just a little lighter. “I can do that.”


	13. Chapter 12: The River - Zephyr

The first thing Zephyr realized, once she was done crying, was that she couldn't get angry anymore. Not unless she wanted to risk killing the person she was angry at.

It was possible she could learn to control the power, but that would take time. And during that time she couldn't get angry due to the same risk, so it was all moot anyway.

Point was, she couldn't get angry anymore. It was too dangerous.

“Wally, what am I going to do?” She asked. “I yelled right in front of everyone that I think of you as a treasure and they reacted so badly! They… They reacted like it was… horrible. They’re going to hate me now.”

Wally blinked. “You think of me as a treasure?” He asked with a concerned note to his voice.

“Yeah! Like that, they all sounded like that! Like you do right now!” Zephyr exclaimed.

“That’s because my inner dragon sense is telling me to keep away from you or tell you why you’re wrong. Because what you did was wrong, for a dragon.”

“I know! Khamseen told me!” Zephyr said, her voice full of annoyed passion. “But I couldn’t have known, I’m not a dragon like you! The only draconic feelings I have are aggression and hoarding! I don’t know all these stupid dragon rules until I mess up one of them, until I’m told! Not like a real dragon who’s fricken born with those rules burned into their minds!”

Wally sat stunned for a second. “I’m still here, aren’t I? I’m still talking to you.”

Zephyr deflated and wrapped him in a hug. “You’re the best.”

Wally hummed, a tone that held no emotion. “But you’re still upset.”

Zephyr nuzzled into Wally slightly. “That doesn’t matter.”

Wally shook his head. “Everyone else will be upset.”

Zephyr sighed, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “I’m still a great protector, they’ll have to keep me around. I’m not  _ useless _ .”

Wally flinched and Zephyr apologized, soft as a breath. “Sorry, Wally.”

A quick hum, a soft noise of disagreement. “No, it’s okay, not your fault.”

Zephyr sighed again. She was so tired, she didn’t know what to do.

“Do you wanna go look for some pretty rocks?” Zephyr asked.

Wally nodded. “Yeah…”

Zephyr managed a small smile. “Let’s go to the river then.”   
  


* * *

Zephyr understood the need to hoard, she did. It was something innate, a desire she couldn’t control or change. Her animals were her hoard, Etesians hoarded scraps of fabric that he found in the wilderness, and Wally hoarded flowers and rocks.

The others didn’t like that Wally hoarded such “weak” things when he was already so “weak”, so he had to avoid hoarding flowers at all, because of how much care they would need, and gave his rocks to Zephyr for her to hide.

He’d only ever given her five rocks in the nearly ten years she’d known him and it was completely the fault of the others.

Colour caught Zephyr’s eye and she reached into the waters below her to pull out a jet black stone, small and rounded with a white band.

“Wally!” Zephyr called. “Come look at this one!”

Wally splashed his way over to Zephyr’s side. “Oh! That one is pretty.”

He wasn’t smiling. “But you can’t have it?” Zephyr asked.

Wally shook his head. “You found it, you keep forgetting that.”

Zephyr sighed. “I just want to help you!”

Wally smiled. “I know, but I can’t accept it.”

Zephyr dropped her arm, the stone falling from her hand and plopping back into the river.

“So… are we going to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“About the fact that I think of you as, fricken, part of my hoard! I know we brushed on it earlier, but I just, I can’t get over it, Wally!”

Wally’s face fell. “What do you want me to say, Zephyr!? That I like it? Because I don’t! I’m not your treasure!”

“I know!” Zephyr screamed, her voice echoing slightly. “I know,” she said quieter. “But you’re my friend and my dragon half is apparently unable to handle that.”

Wally sighed. “What are you going to do about the others?”

Zephyr gulped. “I… I don’t know.”

“I doubt you have any standing left, Etesians will likely only be able to keep you here based on you being his ‘daughter’.”

“My… my skill isn’t enough for them. Wasn’t ever, to be honest,” Zephyr said, her voice breaking.

Wally shook his head, tears falling down his face. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Wh-why are you crying?” Zephyr asked as tears started to fall down her face as well.

Wally laughed, wet and loud. “Because I have a plan and neither of us is going to like it.”

He then collapsed, falling down into the water below as he broke down in tears.

“Y-y-you’re going to have to m-make me your s-s-s-s-slave,” he said, voice breaking and cracking. “If you w-w-want to have any sort of s-s-s-social st-standing, for e-either of us.”

Zephyr sunk to her knees and embraced him. “You can’t do that to yourself, Wally,” she whispered softly. “Th-that’s the ultimate humiliation. You’d be admitting you think like them, that you have no use but to serve.”

He hiccupped, a surge of tears flowing down his face. “I-I-I know!”

Zephyr tightened her grip around him. “I won’t let you do it.”

Wally shook his head vigorously. “Etesians will only be able to k-keep us here for so long, you’ll have to eventually!”

Zephyr didn’t reply and just held him tighter as they cried, their tears masked by the spraying of the river.


	14. Chapter 13: The Bite - Charl

Renzo was crouched at the edge of the river, gathering water into canteens.

"My people are split into two," he said. "It's a division nearly as old as the city."

Charl hummed to show he was listening.

"Technically it is two cities, they even have different names, but all that separates them is closed gates and shielded walls."

Renzo chuckled. "I used to be a dignitary, a mostly honorary position. I was to be the one to talk to other leaders if ever we were found and contacted."

Here Renzo sighed, sounding very tired as he filled the last canteen.

"The one time I got to actually do my job I failed, and ran away."

Charl hummed sadly.

Renzo blinked and then he was smiling again. He even ruffled Charl's hair.

"I had always wanted children. This wasn't how I wanted to have them, but I'm glad I found you."

Charl hummed happily.

Renzo smiled at him for a beautiful bright moment and then they were off, moving once again.

It was quiet as they walked, the only sound being the cold wind through the dying trees.

Charl wanted the summer wind back, the winter wind was not his friend.

"Cold…" Charl said quietly.

Renzo stopped and said a word Charl didn't know. "I don't have warmer clothes for you," he said, sounding sorry.

Charl stared at him for a moment. "...Okay."

Renzo sighed. "I'm sorry, Charl."

Charl shook his head. "Is okay."

Renzo smiled sadly. "Thank you."

Charl smiled back, feeling tired down to his very core.

The crinkle of leaves, somewhere to the left. Renzo instantly tensed.

"Please don't let them be here," he practically whispered as they slowly turned.

There were wolves there, huge and wrongly coloured. They looked mad and hungry.

"Moon-wolves…” Renzo whispered in horror. “How did they get out of the city?”

The leader barked harshly, snapping its teeth together.

“Charl… I need you to run and hide,” Renzo said as he backed up slowly. “Your shield will keep you safe until I find you.”

Charl nodded and ran to the right, before turning left and running away from the whole group of wolves.

A wolf barked somewhere behind him, its feet rhythmically thumping on the hard ground. Charl didn’t look back at it, he couldn’t. If he did, he was sure he would trip, and then he would be trapped under a wolf, not safe, not where Renzo told him to be.

Quickly though, Charl’s legs began to stiffen, tired out very easily. Luckily though, there was a dead and hollow tree trunk, just complete enough to hide in, but broken enough to get into. Running for a long as he could, pushing his legs just that much closer to collapse, Charl reached it and quickly crawled in, curling into a ball around his exhausted legs.

Charl watched through the opening of the tree as the wolf leapt at him. He flinched, only for his runes to flare up from under his clothes. A shield formed, just as Renzo said it would, and the wolf bounced right off. The glow of the runes faded quickly as the wolf growled from on the ground, clearly agitated.

The wolf got back up and growled right at Charl, who curled just a little tighter around himself. It then almost seemed to smile menacingly, lips pulled wide and back over its fangs.

The fangs then started to glow an eerie purplish colour and Charl’s eyes widened in absolute fear. The wolf lunged forward and tore a chunk out of his shield, the rainbow barrier misting at the torn edges as it closed the hole.

Charl was sure Renzo hadn’t anticipated this when he made the shield, and he could only hope that he was found quickly.

The wolf lunged again and again, tearing and tearing and tearing at his shield, the runes beneath his clothes flaring each time the shield was struck. Curling as tight as he could, Charl watched as the light of his runes cast creepy shadows along the inside of the trunk he was hiding in.

Slowly, the runes flared less and less each time, the holes in the shield taking longer to repair. Eventually, there was a hole left behind in it, and all Charl could feel was joy. He smiled as the wolf ripped a giant hole in the shield, which then collapsed completely.

He was going to be with his mom and dad soon. Charl was so happy.

A blast of pure light hit the wolf, which was flung off into the distance, and Charl realized that he hadn’t been happy, he had just been so scared he hadn’t known what he was actually feeling.

Renzo’s worried face peered into the hole in the tree trunk and Charl cried harder than he ever had in his life.

Renzo’s face fell and he quickly pulled Charl out of the tree, holding him close.

“Shh, shh, shh, shh, Charl, it’s okay, I’m here now.”

“I-i-i-it was-, it was g-gonna hurt m-meeeeeee!” Charl cried, his nose starting to run slightly.

Renzo hummed and cooed softly. “I know, I know, but it didn’t, it’s alright now.”

Charl continued to cry until he fell asleep, too exhausted and overwhelmed to be awake any longer. 

* * *

Renzo stared at the sleeping child in his arms, feeling overrun. He, he didn’t know what to do anymore. He had barely gotten Charl out of that situation unharmed, and even that wasn’t entirely the case. Charl was only physically unharmed.

This kid was too fragile, too soft, and Renzo wasn’t strong enough for the both of them. He didn’t know how long he could keep them both alive.

If he wanted Charl to live, Renzo would have to give him magic, and Charl, Charl was not going to like that.

Renzo sighed and stood up, walking further into the forest, Charl wrapped protectively in his arms.


	15. Chapter 14: Girl Talk - Retta

Retta did a lot of thinking. She had to, considering how often she was left alone. What little time she spent awake was always spent reading or thinking, and right now she was thinking about the Blood-Drinkers.

There were at least five of them, according to various reports sent to the church and the university. They all had pointed fangs, bright orange eyes, greying skin, and claw-like nails. They were dangerous and needed to be stopped.

Rashidi had nearly been hurt by one. The only reason he hadn’t been was because of luck, and Nikeese. The few amount of people who survived an encounter said that physical attacks were quickly healed, that only magic could hurt them.

Retta… was afraid, and she… could do nothing to stop it. Not when she had only just became strong enough to walk again.

She let out a sigh, feeling weary. The world was too busy, too fast, and she was too weak to keep up.

Clearly, she needed to talk to Sika. She was always quite grounded.

Retta swung her legs off of the bed and planted her feet on the ground, her hands beside her on the mattress, ready to brace her rising.

She pushed up and her joints  _ refused _ , aching and immovable like stone. But she had to push through. Gritting her teeth Retta pushed more and then she was standing, a pop of relief filling her as the pain stopped.

Retta smiled to herself and waddled over to her cane. She was going to need it, probably a lot.

Retta ran into her mother as she left. She looked like she had seen a ghost, her mouth agape and face paled.

“R-Retta! You’re out of bed!” Masva exclaimed.

Retta tilted her head, smiling slightly. “Of course, Mother, nothing could ever keep me down forever. I thought you liked that about me.”

Masva blinked. “I-, y-yes, it’s just-, it’s wonderful to see you walking about, dear.”

Retta smiled wide. “Thank you, mum.” She then left the interaction, her mother gaping wide behind her.

Retta giggled to herself. By Guardians, it was good to be mobile again. She’d have to get on Rashidi’s case for forgetting to tell their parents she’d been getting better though. She understood why he didn’t, but it was  _ important _ .

Sighing just slightly, Retta pushed open the door of the manor and welcomed the sunlight for the first time in a long  _ long _ while.

“Hello world,” she whispered gleefully to herself. “I hope you’re ready to face me again.”

* * *

If you wanted to be technical about things, Sika was a noble too. Her family just had very little money, because all of their lands had been taken. They had only a small amount of income and were basically normal people, they just happened to have noble titles.

With a quick  _ thunk, thunk, thunk, _ of her cane on the door, Retta announced her visitation.

Sika’s father opened the door and he instantly gaped at her.

“Hello, Lord Zhao, it’s wonderful to see you again.”

He blinked, and then seemed to recover himself. “And I you, young Lady Retta.”

“I am here to see your daughter, young Lady Sika, is she here today?”

Lord Zhao chuckled. “I always tell you that there is no need to be so formal, Retta, and yes, I believe she is.”

"And as I always say back, it is polite to be formal in the presence of a lord, even when he has no money."

Another chuckle. "It's good to see you again, please come in and I shall fetch my daughter for you."

Retta smiled and did as requested. "Thank you very much, Lord Zhao."

Retta made her way to the lounge and sat down on a cushioned chair, sighing as the weight of her body was removed from her knees and ankles.

The quick pattering of feet sounded and then there was Sika, her orange horns half polished and shirt rumpled.

“Retta!” She exclaimed. “Oh good Guardians, you’re actually here, I thought father was joking!”

Retta smiled widely. “He wasn’t.”

“Clearly!” Sika laughed. “Now tell me, why are you here?”

Retta gulped. “Have you heard of the Blood-Drinkers?”

Sika’s face settled into seriousness. “You mean those things that tried to attack Rashidi at the festival?”

Retta nodded. “It was so stupid, that just biting his lip could attract them, but at least we know how sensitive they are now.”

Sika sighed. “Is he okay?”

Retta giggled. “He’s gonna have a scar on the inside of his lip now, he bit it so hard that healing couldn’t repair it completely.”

Sika rolled her eyes. “And let me guess? Nikeese…”

“…thinks it’s his fault, yes,” Retta finished for her. “Those boys are just so gone for each other, it’s a little silly.”

Sika raised an eyebrow. “Ex _ cuse me? _ Retta, you are just as gone as your twin is on him, don’t you dare deny it.”

Retta let out a grumpy sigh. “Yeah, but there’s no chance for us, it’s unrealistic.”

The eyebrow didn’t drop. “But you’re getting better, it’s possible now.”

Retta glared. “Nikeese and Rashidi are pretending to court each other right now, I want to, but I  _ can’t _ .”

Sika sighed exasperatedly. “Fine.”

“So…” Retta started, “Do you know what the church is doing about the Blood-Drinkers?”

Sika took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “They’re trying to avoid using Adora, but the Drinkers are just so evasive, they can’t be found.”

Retta swore. “And the lords?”

Sika laughed. “You think most of them care? They have people to protect them.”

Retta smacked the arm of the chair. “So what needs to be done then?”

Sika shook her head. “The magical guard don’t have a plan, the best they can come up with is to just collect blood and walk around with it, hope to attract them out of where they’re hiding.”

Retta sighed. “I thought your people were better than that.”

Sika huffed in amusement. “The magical guard is made up of people, most of whom aren’t as smart as you, Retta.”

Retta made an annoyed sound. “I would have been part of them! If not for this stupid…” she trailed off.

Sika patted her shoulder. “I know. Let us handle it, we figure something out.”

Retta closed her eyes for a moment and let the tension bleed out of her shoulders. “…Okay.”

Sika smiled. “Good. Now, let’s get you home, you look like you need a nap.”

Retta glared half heartedly. “Have I told you how much I hate you recently?”

Sika grinned, eyes alight with amusement. “Not really, you’ve been distracted by all the boy drama.”

Retta chuckled and grabbed her cane, pushing herself to her feet.

“Who do you think will break down first?” Retta asked.

Sika thought for a moment as she led Retta back to the front door. “Rashidi.”

Retta blinked. “Why?”

Sika smiled. “Nikeese has been holding it in for years that he loves that boy, Rashidi is just oblivious. Once he knows there is  _ nothing _ that will stop your brother from giving him a kiss.”

Retta laughed, bright and loud, feeling her heart clear of stress for one beautiful moment.


	16. Chapter 15: The Decay - Maradalel

Maradalel awoke with an armful of Andarada—el and a vision filled with the angry face of his father.

“ _ Ta wazazabat pan lal, kola, _ ”  _ I worry for you, son, _ he said in a strained voice.

“ _ La otom onot akata kirad yom. _ ”  _ You never seem to act that way, _ Maradalel replied as he sat up, feeling snarky.

The red on Danda—el’s skin seemed to shift, swirling like dust in water. “ _ Ge—a stanat kolotat lav galaramil, _ ”  _ He’s wearing your clothes. _

Maradalel tilted his head and smiled. “ _ Ta saladit, ta anadad ulul oo gel—a. _ ”  _ I know, I gave them to him. _

The red seemed to explode, a silent phenomenon that brought only fear.

“ _Mo ta kalatat la posed stanad akata—ti… loca ii sat alon gel—a, ta abrakav inaga ma otom sele yemen yaman lopolo._ ” _If I discover you’ve been acting… out of_ _line with him, I will make sure you never see_ _each other_ _again._

Maradalel smirked, feeling false bravado push him on. “ _ Ge—a stanat akilli nu simasud sele tal, ee killan ge—a stanat. _ ”  _ He’s already not allowed to see me, but here he is. _

Danda—el frowned. “ _ Tilled allad ge—a nu stana simasud killan? _ ”  _ Why would he not be allowed here? _

“ _ Ge—a ngitad tal gev—a bala katakabat lav, yi ge—a stanat nu simasud speta alon nol—u. _ ”  _ He told me his father hates you, so he’s not allowed to talk with us. _

Danda—el’s face scrunched up. “Andarada—el, is that true? Does your father… dislike us?”

The older boy nodded, which was surprising, as Maradalel thought he had still been asleep. Even so, his movements were slow, he wasn’t fully awake.   
“Yes, General. He thinks I’ll become like you, so I’m not supposed to talk to you unless he’s there as well.” His voice was bleary: drawling, drowsy, and deep.

Danda—el hummed. “Interesting.” He then smiled ominously, his skin turning mint and yellow. “Thank you Andarada—el, this has been very enlightening.”

Danda—el turned and left, muttering under his breath. Maradalel was glad he seemed to have forgotten that he had been mad.

Silence stretched for a long uncomfortable moment. “This is going to result in you being in trouble, isn’t it?” Maradalel asked.

Andarada—el sat up and leaned against him. “Mmmmm, probably,” he said, still sounding sleepy.

Maradalel frowned. “I hope that doesn’t happen. I like having you around.”

Andarada—el hummed happily, a mix of yellow and purple blobs slowly fading onto his skin. “Good, me too.”

Maradalel thought for a moment. “Will you want to stay for dinner?” He asked.

Andarada—el frowned. “No, I should probably go home so my dad doesn’t get suspicious.”

Maradalel felt himself turn blue as he nodded. “Okay, that’s fair.”

Andarada—el looked around and then licked his lips. “I will do  _ this _ though.”

He then leaned forward and placed a peck of a kiss on Maradalel’s cheek. “You’re a very unique person, I like that about you. So, don’t go changing it.”

Maradalel turned orange and purple, feeling both embarrassed and touched. “O-okay,” he stuttered out.

Andarada—el turned mint and purple as he smirked. “ _ Natak kali tiempala. _ ” He then left, once again just after having turned Maradalel into a mess.

Reaching up to touch the slight moistness on his cheek, Maradalel couldn’t help but wish that “soon” would turn out to be tomorrow. He just couldn’t get enough of being around that boy.

But then the dinner bell rang and all of Maradalel’s good feelings evaporated, like mist on a warm day.

Swearing to himself, Maradalel hurried to the dining room. A good son would always be punctual, and Maradalel did his best to be a good son.

Or, at least, he used to.

“ _ Yi, Maradalel, hallad la posed… zav alon lav pulu kiran ra? _ ”  _ So, Maradalel, did you have… fun with your friend today? _ His mother asked as soon as he sat down at the table. She sounded concerned and almost suspicious.

“ _ Ta hallad, mali. _ ”  _ I did, mother _ .

She hummed and nodded. “ _ Ta sonod alag tav bala kirad ma del stanad selepana—ti marath. _ ”  _ I heard from your father that you two were napping together. _ She then morphed her expression into something dangerous. “ _ La hallad nu halla zobo’obayat… darag alon ga—a, hallad la? _ ”  _ You didn’t do anything… bad with him, did you? _

Maradalel felt himself turn orange and red with irritation and fear. “ _ Ot, no stanat delta kanal—a, mali. Kanal—a hallat nu halla kirad alon yemen yaman. _ ”  _ No, we are both boys, mother. Boys don’t do that with each other. _

Modara glared at him. “ _ La stanat nu ilot uv kana—a, Maradalel! _ ”  _ You are not only a boy, Maradalel! _ She said, raising her voice. “ _ La stanat adale uv kana—i, ee la salalad nu stana! La saladit kirad! La stanat nov kola um la akatav lazay merl! Nu lazay uv… uv sekutu! _ ”  _ You are also a girl, but you should not be! You know that! You are our son and you will act like it! Not like a… a floozy! _

Maradalel felt his eyes grow watery, but he wouldn’t cry, not in front of his mother. So he glared instead, forcing as much resentment into his gaze as possible.

“ _ Yi, ta stanat nu simasud poset pulul, stanat kirad merl? _ ”  _ So, I’m not allowed to have friends, is that it? _ He asked, practically yelling.

Modara returned his glare. “ _ Atrat oo tav radin. Killet. _ ”  _ Go to your room. Now. _ She said, voice hard and flat.

Maradalel stood up, scraping the chair on the floor. “ _ On, mali, _ ” he said, trying to sound as annoyed as possible.

“ _ Atra! _ ”  _ Go! _ Modara yelled.

Maradalel turned and walked stiffly back to his room, trying his best not to cry until he was back and safely alone.

* * *

Maradalel had two feelings warring in his chest, the need to cry and the need to hit something. Grabbing the practice sword he had hidden at the bottom of his clothing chest he began to hit his mattress, the soft feathers making a quiet ‘thwap’ sound with each hit of the wooden sword.

Why couldn’t-

_ Thwap _ went the bed.

-they just-

_ Thwap. _

-let him have-

_ Thwap. _

-something for himself-

_ Thwap. _ His hands began to  spark .

-without worrying about-

_Thwap._ He felt his ears begin to shine.

-his stupid secret!

_ Snap! _

Maradalel paused, shocked by the odd sound. The… The sword had broken. The blade was splintered, split in the middle like some weak twig. Maradalel couldn’t tear his eyes away from the break, not even when his tears blurred it from his vision. His whole arm was aglow now with magic, though it was hard to tell. 

“Why won’t they just let me be me?” He asked the room quietly, his tears flowing faster.

The room didn’t answer, however his hands stopped glowing. Oddly enough though, Maradalel didn’t feel the flow of magic to his hands stop with it. It freaked him out a bit.

Blinking the tears from his eyes, Maradalel watched in fascinated horror as a black stain, like growing mould, flowed to cover the broken blade in his hand. Once it was fully black the sword began to disintegrate, turning to dust that didn’t even last long enough to make it to the floor.

Maradalel stared at his empty hands as the smudgy black aura surrounding them faded from view, not only because his magic stopped, but because he fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll leave it up to your interpretation as to whether this is the same day as the previous Maradalel chapter :3


	17. Chapter 16: The Fires - Zephyr

Alarms went off in Zephyr’s head the moment they arrived home. It took a moment, but she soon realized why.

No one was outside.

Unease gripped her heart. She looked to Wally, protecting him her only thought.

“Wally, get inside,” she commanded.

He nodded nervously and dashed away. She watched him until he disappeared, until he was safe.

Heart lighter, Zephyr looked around and found her instincts pulling her to the fields. Snapping her wings out, she flew into the sky, following the feeling. 

Quite quickly, her instincts proved to be correct, the red glow of fire starting to consume the land around her home. Movement caught her eye and she dove closer to find that Etesians, Levanter, and Khamseen were there, fighting the source of the flames. Ginormous flaming birds swooped and swerved, trailing embers behind them. 

Even for a dragon, the conditions were dry and the others looked weak, their motions sluggish. Etesians was on the defensive, absorbing as much fire as he could, glowing like an active coal with how much fire was surrounding him. Levanter and Khamaseen were on the offensive, trying their best to bring down the creatures, but the flock was large. They were moving too fast to tell, but Zephyr counted at least ten.

She scanned the ground, searching for an opening and smiled. She dove down, wind rushing in her ears and magic rushing through her  hands and horns , and landed with a boom that extinguished the flames around her as her wings gently kissed the ground.

“About time you showed up!” Etesians yelled at her, sounding tired. “They can control fire better than we can, and it’s making this a very difficult fight!”

Zephyr hardened an angry glare at the flock of firebirds. “Well, I’m here now!” 

Leaping into the air, Zephyr scissor kicked one bird, sending it soaring about ten feet backwards, and out of range of the others.

Another bird attempted to dive at her when she landed, but she grabbed it by the neck and twisted, snapping the bones, and then throwing the corpse.

Instead of lying still though, the body twisted and burst into flames shaped like a flower, red and yellow and brilliant.

“We can’t kill them,” Khamseen’s voice called from somewhere behind her. “They just do that and come back.”

Another bird dove at her and Zephyr ducked out of the way. “Can we absorb their fire?” She yelled.

“No!” Yelled Levanter from her left. “It’s part of them somehow, we can’t control the fire inside them at all!”

Zephyr swore and raked her claws across the neck of a bird that tried to set her hair on fire, its shimmery blood spraying and burning where it landed on her, even on her scales.

Zephyr’s mind emptied as she fought, kicking and clawing her way through more and more birds, but they quickly regenerated any wounds she inflicted. It was a battle of attrition and one they couldn’t win.

Another bird tried a futile dive and Zephyr stuck her claws into it and ripped out its organs, which then burst into flames and disappeared from her grip. All that was left was the shimmery blood, an orange sheen on crimson red staining her white scales.

Zephyr screamed and cut right through the neck of another bird with glowing claws, feeling anguish and pain building inside her. She couldn’t do anything! There was nothing to do!

The glow of her hands intensified, moving all the way to her chest and engulfing her whole body in light. Clutching her shining head in her hands, Zephyr felt panic bring tears to her eyes. What was she going to do!?

Black thorns grew out of her aura and wrapped around her as Zephyr felt a cold finality sink inside her heart.

“Leave these things to me!” She yelled, voice flat despite her volume.

“Zephyr, what are you doing!?” Etesians yelled, panic consuming his voice.

“Getting some social standing.” She yelled back as a wave of agonized and blackened magic erupted from her body and killed one of the nearby birds.

Levanter swore from somewhere behind her as three more birds died, their flames extinguished because they had touched Zephyr’s aura.

The bird’s fires tried to revive them, but Zephyr’s aura drank it like a dying plant drank water, pulling the released and flowering fire into herself and severing its connection to the body it once inhabited.

Slowly, corpses rained down around Zephyr, like a deadly rain. Zephyr felt sicker with each new bird that fell to the ground, their weirdly beautiful blood splattering the ground.

Eventually, there were no birds left in the air and Zephyr collapsed to her knees, body drained of both magic and energy. Her aura was gone, leaving just her blood stained scales.  
“I-if they come back,” she said, voice wavering like reeds in a storm. “Wring their necks and drink their fire once it’s released.”

Zephyr’s energy ran out and the world turned black.

* * *

Zephyr woke up and was instantly greeted by the disappointed face of Etesians hovering over her.

“That was very reckless, Zephyr,” he said. “I had no idea what you were planning.”

“They’re all dead though, right?” she croaked out. Nothing was more important.

Etesians released a half amused sigh. “Yes, they’re all dead. I have no idea how you knew how to kill them though.”

Zephyr shrugged. “I could feel it when they died, their fire was the only thing keeping them alive and my magic… cut them off from it.”

Etesians frowned. “I’ve never seen or heard of magic like that before.”

Zephyr laughed weakly. “I know.”

Etesians sighed. “Zephyr…”

“How is everyone else?” She asked, interrupting him.

Etesians thinned his lips into a line. “They didn’t like your display very much, thought of it as ‘cheating’, especially so soon after your mistake earlier.”

Zephyr swore. “How much time do you think I have before you have to kick me out?”

Etesians hummed in thought. “I’d give you a month, at most.”

Zephyr groaned. “Gonna have to use Wally's plan after all."

Etesians made a confused sound. “And just  _ what _ is his plan, Zephyr?”

Zephyr leveled a flat look at her father, empty of any emotion. “To make him my slave.”

Etesians stumbled back in surprise. “He’d be willing to do that!?”

Zephyr chortled, the laughter forced out of her. “No! Of course not! He was crying his eyes out as he told me.”

Etesians swore. “That’s not good at all.”

Zephyr shook her head, feeling sadness well up inside her. “No.”

“And if it doesn’t work, if you still don’t have enough standing to stay, what will you two do?” Etesians asked.

Zephyr smiled sadly at her father. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I have no idea what I would do.”

Etesians frowned. “Well, you’ll need to figure it out soon.”

Zephyr closed her eyes and sighed. “I know,” she said, nearly whispering.

Wally ran into the chamber at breakneck speed, nearly hitting a wall in his haste.

“Is she awake?” He asked, sounding panicked.

Zephyr chuckled in amusement. “Yeah, Wally, I’m awake.”

Wally rushed over and wrapped his arms around her. “Oh thank goodness! You were asleep for over 20  _ hazokil _ . I was so worried!”

Zephyr patted him on the back. “Sorry, buddy, but it’s my job to protect you, and there was no other way.”

The arms around her tightened their embrace. “I know, doesn’t mean I can’t worry!”

Zephyr sighed happily as Etesians chuckled. “You’re a good friend, Wally,” she said.

Wally snorted. “Only friend,” he said with a hefty dose of amusement and teasing.

Zephyr chuckled. “Yeah yeah, buddy, doesn’t mean you’re not a good one.”

Wally released a happy sigh, tightened his grip once more, and then released her.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he said, smiling despite his serious tone.

Zephyr smiled back. “No promises, but I’ll try not to.”

Wally nodded in satisfaction. “Good. Very very good.”


	18. Chapter 17: The Reveal - Maradalel

Maradalel was concerned, very very concerned. When he regained consciousness he was still in his room, as he had been left on his floor, undisturbed by even his own parents.

There were no windows into his room, so he had no idea what time it was, but he was fairly sure it had been many hours because his whole body felt sore.

Good Guardians, what was he going to do? This was yet  _ another _ thing for him to worry about, another thing that he had to hide.

Maradalel wrapped his arms around himself and began to shake slightly, feeling just so, so overwhelmed. He didn’t, he wasn't, wasn’t sure he could keep going like this for much longer. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could spend hiding himself from everyone.

Strangers, strangers he could probably handle, but his parents?  _ Andarada—el? _ That was too much. Just thinking about trying to hide from his  _ only freaking friend _ turned his stomach sour.

Gods, Maradalel just wanted to, to puke! And then nap, preferably forever. He’d much rather do that than deal with the world any longer.

Blue and azure and orange danced over his skin, and Maradalel felt like his bones were just trying to shake right out of him, trying to escape the cocoon of his flesh.

Maradalel’s stomach turned and he ran, desperate to reach the washroom.

He didn’t make it though and had to puke into one of his parent’s decorative plants. For a long moment afterwards, Maradalel just held the edge of the pot, breathing heavily into the empty hallway.

Gods, he was just so tired.

* * *

Blunted blades met with a clang and Maradalel pushed forward as he stepped back, putting space between him and his opponent. Eyes narrowed, the other stepped forwards to close the gap, but Maradalel had planned this carefully and crouched down, swinging his leg out to knock the other onto his back.

_ Thunk _ went the boy’s armour.

“That’s cheating!” he cried.

The instructor tutted. “There’s no such thing as cheating in true combat, while we have rules here for the purpose of respect and safe…” The instructor turned a raised eyebrow of judgement at Maradalel. “Anything is allowed in a real battle, and the restrictions we have here are less for the  _ kana—a _ among us.”

“However,” here the instructor actually glared at him. “When fighting a  _ kata _ , Maradalel, you should remember to follow their rules and not your own. They can’t expect or defend against what they aren’t trained for.”

“I’m sorry, sir!” Maradalel said, standing as tall as he could. “I’ll remember next time.”

The instructor’s face softened. “Good. Run ten laps as punishment and then you can go home.”

Maradalel groaned internally but quickly started his laps. The quicker he finished them, the sooner he would be away from people.

Running was busywork, full of breathing and focus, and sound. The mind emptied and all that remained was the thought of each foot as it compressed against the ground and the burn of air as it moved through the lungs.

Somewhere along the sixth lap a presence joined Maradalel’s but he didn’t think much of it, it was just a person running with him.

“ _ Alo—ra _ , Maradalel.”

Maradalel startled, nearly making him trip. “Good  _ lord _ , Andarada—el!”

The other boy laughed. “I’m sorry! You were just so, so focused!”

Maradalel glared as he increased speed, needing to complete these laps faster now that he had someone to entertain.

“Whoa-What! Maradalel, wait up!”

Maradalel laughed as he left his friend in the dust.

Quite quickly Maradalel finished his laps and waited in place for his friend.

“You!-” pant. “Are-” pant. “The worst!” Andarada—el said once he finally caught up.

“I know,” Maradalel said with a smile, only barely winded.

“Good Guardians, what-, what are you made of!?” Andarada—el asked, his skin turning to a mixture of cerise, chartreuse, and purple.

Maradalel felt his mood dip at the sight. He couldn’t handle seeing lust right now, not on top of everything else.

“D-don’t,” he said.

Andarada—el blinked. “Don’t what?”

Tears began to gather in Maradalel’s eyes. “You shouldn’t do that, you shouldn’t lust for me.”

Andarada—el’s skin became red and chartreuse. “And why shouldn’t I?”

Maradalel shook his head. “I-, I c-can’t tell you.”

“Tell me.”

He backed up a step. “I said I can’t.”

“Tell me.”

“I can’t!”

“Tell me!”

The dam broke and tears flowed down his face. “ _Ta tallad ta pemedat nu!_ ” _I said I can’t!_ He felt his magic release with his emotions, making his hands and ears glow.

“ _ Ngitat tav! _ ”  _ Tell me! _ Andarada—el demanded.  _ “Ngitat tav tilled ta pemedat nu lusu pan uvyaman kana—a! _ ”  _ Tell me why I can’t lust for another boy! _

“ _ Aliye ta stanat nu uv! _ ”  _ Because I am not one! _ Maradalel exclaimed.

Andarada—el didn’t even blink, he just narrowed his eyes. “ _ Yi? _ ”  _ So? _

“ _ Ta stanat otokir e—a otod e—i! Ta stanat otokir um delta! Ta stanat e—’delta’! _ ”  _ I am neither male nor female! I am neither and both! I am intersex! _ Maradalel yelled as he flailed  his glowing hands .  _ “Ta stanat ino um hewat! Ta hallat nu onnokat un kiran tarra, um la salalad nu lusut pan tal! _ ”  _ I am ugly and wrong! I do not belong in this world, and you should not lust for me! _

Tears flowed down Maradalel’s blue face, resignation written plainly in the fact that there was no fear and no anger in him. No orange and no red on his skin.

“ _ La stanat uv bodobo, _ ”  _ You are an Idiot, _ Andarada—el said with considerable force. “ _ Ta saladit la stanat e—’delta’. _ ”  _ I know you’re intersex _ .

Cyan and chartreuse wrapped over Maradalel. “ _ Kim? _ ”  _ What? _

Andarada—el smiled, eyes sparkling with amusement. “ _ Ta saladit kirad la hallat nu poset ‘serelal’ ee hallat poset uv ‘pau’. _ ”  _ I know that you don’t have “balls” but do have a “flower”. _

Andarada—el then frowned. “You’re really pushing my knowledge of the Old Tongue, by the way.”

Maradalel blinked, feeling like he was moving through tar with how slowly he was processing everything.  
“You… You know…” he said, words quiet and almost awed. “You know I’m…”

Andarada—el nodded.

“How?” Maradalel asked, voice breaking slightly.

Andarada—el stuck out his tongue. “It’s a secret.”

Maradalel glared at him. “That doesn’t help me prevent other people from figuring it out!” It was beyond important that no one else found out.

Andarada—el smirked, body turning mint. “Don’t worry, I doubt anyone will find out the same way I did. It was because of some very special and unique circumstances.”

“You’re sure?” Maradalel asked with his eyebrow raised.

Purple and orange flooded over Andarada—el’s skin. “I’m  _ very _ sure. I had to go out of my way in order to find out, and that wasn’t even the goal of what I was doing at the time.”

Purple, trust, that was good. Maradalel relaxed. “So… you don’t care?” He asked.

Andarada—el smiled, chuckling just a bit. “I said so before that I think you’re cool! What bits you have doesn’t change that.”

Thoughts whirled around Maradalel’s head. “S-so, if it’s just us, I-I-I could take off my-, my chest binding and… you wouldn’t mind?”

Andarada—el nodded. “Not one bit.” He was smirking a bit.

Maradalel lowered a flat glare at him. “Yeah, I’m not gonna do that. You’d enjoy it too much.”

Andarada—el pouted. “Awww.”

Maradalel felt himself flush orange with preemptive embarrassment. “I might-, uh, I might go swimming with you now though… I-if you can find somewhere secluded enough.”

Andarada—el’s eyes widened. “R-r-really!?”

Maradalel gave an embarrassed smile. “Yeah, really.”

Andarada—el gaped for a moment. “Th-that’s  _ super _ sweet, good  _ lord _ .”

Maradalel chuckled. “Just, uh, don’t expect a lot of swimming, okay?”

Andarada—el nodded, looking like an eager puppy, tiny dots of cyan and chartreuse swirling at the tips of his pointed ears.

Maradalel could easily guess what his friend was anticipating and gave him a smile, flushing a friendly purple.

Andarada—el’s face fell, turning chartreuse and cyan. “Wait… Y-your ears were glowing, l-like a human mage…”

Maradalel shook his head slowly. “Please don’t make me tell you another secret, not today, not now.”

Andarada—el nodded. “You’ll tell me one day, though, right?”

Maradalel nodded back quickly. “Y-yeah.”

“D-do-,” Andarada—el coughed, likely from nerves. “Still want to hang out?”

Maradalel smiled, feeling his stress melt a little. “Of course I would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried my best to end on as happy a note as I could, but my hasty edits and additions required by my change to the way Human Mages work I had to ruin the tone of the ending slightly. I may one day fix it, but for right now what I have at least *works*.  
> Just so you're aware the story originally ended at "…flushing a friendly purple."


	19. Chapter 18: The Story - Charl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charl listens to a story

Charl woke up shaking, a half remembered nightmare about teeth already fading as the tail end of his own shout touched his ears.

Renzo’s arms were immediately around him. “Shh, shh, Charl, it was only a dream.”

Charl shook his head. “It happened,” he whispered.

Renzo sighed. “Yes, Charl, it happened, but you’re safe, it didn’t get you.”

Charl released a sob. “But it could have!”

The arms around him tightened. “But it didn’t, Charl, you gotta remember that. It didn’t get you.”

Charl sniffled. “Tell me a story, Renzo… Please.”

A tired sigh. “There once was a great city, hidden from all the other cities and surrounded by a brilliant barrier that protected it from all outside threats. That city was called Arcaea, home of the broken and scared.

But then one of the broken rose up and shouted, claiming that those that drove them to be broken should pay, should be made broken instead. Her name was Vaedel and she gathered a lot of support, but also a lot of opponents. Not everyone wanted to kill those that brought us here. They just wanted to be safe.

She called them weak, cowardly, and her own people were labelled as the strong.

The weak rose up and drove her to a corner of the city where she trapped herself by lowering all of the gates and named her section of the city ‘Illumia’, the light of the future.”

Renzo released another sigh. “I opened the gates that she closed and glimpsed a world so dark and twisted I’m surprised people are willing to live there. If only they knew what was happening right under their noses.”

Charl hiccupped. “What did you see?”

A hum. “I saw people so full of fear it scared me just being near them.”

“Is… is that why you’re here?” Charl asked, somehow feeling better even though the story was sad. It made him feel like it was okay to be afraid, and that made him not afraid.

Renzo hummed again. “It is, I ran because I was afraid, because staying would have meant being even more scared than I am now. I ran to protect those I loved and cared for.”

Renzo chuckled sadly. “They’ll never know why I disappeared, because I’m never going back, I can’t.”

Charl cuddled into Renzo. “What if I went with you? Would you go back if I was there?” Perhaps Charl being there would make Renzo less afraid of what he saw.

“I don’t know,” Renzo answered. “I don’t know, Charl. But I hope that one day you get to see it. See it and my lovely wife.”

Charl rubbed his face against Renzo a bit. “You have a wife?”

A quiet chuckle. “I do, and she would love you, young Charl.”

Charl smiled to himself. “I love you, Renzo,” he said.

Renzo hummed. “I love you too, Charl.”

* * *

Soon the child in his arms was snoozing once more and Renzo relaxed. None of what he said had been untrue, but he wasn’t sure how long it would hold true, how long Charl would continue to love him once he gave Charl magic.

He could only hope.

* * *

When Charl woke again, it was to Renzo staring at the empty fire pit, barely moving.

“R-Renzo?” He asked.

The man didn’t reply.

“Renzo, what are you doing? Don’t we have to get moving?”

Renzo sighed. “There’s something I want to do first, and no matter how much you aren’t going to like it, it’s all for your own good.”

Charl frowned. “Okay. If you say so.”

Renzo chuckled. “Come here, Charl.”

Charl walked over, slowly. He didn’t feel safe anymore, the air felt thick and slow.

“You’re going to want to take your clothes off, I don’t know what exactly is going to change, but clothes will definitely get in the way.”

Charl didn’t understand, not one single bit. “Why?”

Renzo shook his head. “Please, Charl, don’t ask. If you do, I won’t be able to do it.”

“Renzo, you’re scaring me!” Charl cried.

Renzo’s face became so sad, tears wetting the fur around his eyes. “I know, but I have to.” 

Charl took off his clothes. “Please tell me why, Renzo,” he asked when he was done.

Renzo shook his head. “I can’t.” He then lifted glowing hands into the air and placed them on Charl’s chest.

Renzo’s hands then changed their glow from a flowing aura to a shimmering star-like shine that spread to Charl, burning its way over his skin like fire.

Charl tried to scream, but he couldn’t, his whole existence was pain, blistering, burning, and bright. His soul was on fire and it hurt more than anything he had ever felt. Everything that he was was writhing in pain. What hurt the most though was the base of his spine, which felt like it was being broken and shattered, turned to dust and put back together and then broken again.

Charl was sure he was going to die if the pain didn’t stop, but then it did and he collapsed to the ground, panting and broken and naked.

“Charl!” Renzo cried in alarm.

Charl looked up at Renzo, tears streaming down his face. “Whyyyy” he wailed.

Renzo’s face was just as wet, his fur damp. “To give you magic, to protect you.”

Charl curled into a ball, not looking at Renzo at all. “Go away!” He yelled. He felt so betrayed.

The sound of footsteps was his only response.

Lingering pain wormed its way through him and Charl shivered, feeling cold and hurt. Everything ached.

With shaky hands that were just starting to glow Charl reached behind himself, feeling for the base of his spine. He needed to know why it had hurt so much, why there had been so much pain just  _ there _ .

His fingers met fur and Charl sobbed as his new tail flicked across the ground, slinging dirt around him.

“What did you do to me!?” He cried, his voice echoing through the forest.

The only reply was the sound of upset birds and the answering wail of the wind.

* * *

Renzo stared at the newly formed Mustel, a human mage born of Ichneum magic, as he wailed on the forest floor, naked and crying like a baby. Charl’s hands glowed and the curving marks that ran along his tail and around his hips were alight, beautiful despite the pain they were inciting.

Renzo cried as he felt Charl slip through his fingers, the protection he had needed to give only driving them apart.

“What have I done?” He asked himself.

Charl sobbed again and Renzo could only feel like a traitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing this chapter was intense


	20. Chapter 19: The News - Rashidi

Rashidi grabbed the small charm from his necklace and pulled it to his mouth, pushing the thin piece of metal between his front teeth,  the pressure of his teeth being pushed apart feeling nice .

“You’re going to have a gap in between your teeth if you keep doing that,” Nikeese said gently.

Rashidi smiled at him as he pulled the charm out. “I know that, and you knew that when you bought it.”

Nikeese chuckled. “Indeed, darling.”

Rashidi ran a finger along the ridges of his horns, feeling it bump along them.  He hummed in contentedness .

Nikeese giggled. “Enjoying yourself?”

Rashidi nodded, blinking slowly like a sleepy cat.

“You should head home soon, darling. Your parents will worry.”

Rashidi pouted. “I know, but I wanna stay with you.”

Nikeese giggled and a thought passed through Rashidi’s mind.

“Would you kiss me, if you had to prove your affections to my parents?”

Nikeese’s whole body shivered, a single movement of reaction. “O-of course. Why?”

Rashidi looked down at his lap and smiled to himself. “Just wondering.”

* * *

Masva was waiting for him at the front gate. That, that clearly wasn’t good.

“Mother?”  He asked as he twisted his hands in the fabric of his pockets .

She smiled at the two of them, but it seemed a little off. “Rashidi, I have some news.”

Rashidi turned to look at Nikeese for a moment. “Um, alright.”

Masva cast a glance at Nikeese. “If your… beloved intends to stay over for a bit, he can wait in the hall while your father and I talk to you.”

She then walked inside, leaving Rashidi feeling very apprehensive.

“W-will you stay?” He asked. “At least for a bit?”

“Of course,” Nikeese said quietly, sounding concerned.

Rashidi gave Nikeese’s hand  a quick squeeze and then followed his mother, eventually finding himself outside of his father’s study.

His mother smiled at him, the expression still off, and opened the door.

“Dear, is that our lovely son?” Said Jaime from inside.

“It is, honey.”

Rashidi shivered,  unsure if it was from cold or not , and walked into the room.

“Th-there’s news you want to share?” he asked.

Jaime looked up from his desk. “Indeed. People are aware that Retta has… Improved. Lovely work, by the way, son.”

Rashidi smiled nervously,  rubbing his tongue forcefully along the roof of his mouth for a sensation that couldn’t be seen . “Thank you.”

Jaime smiled. “So, we’re going to have a celebration, in honour of your work and Retta’s improved condition.”

Rashidi gaped.

Jaime’s face blanked, turning almost stony. “It will happen in three weeks time and you will attend. You will not have a freakout, you will dance,  you will not remove your shoes , you will act as normal as you can, and you will not bring Nikeese along as your date.”

The world warped, twisting and unravelling and extending and shrinking. 

“What?” Rashidi asked,  feeling lost behind in the translation between words and meaning .

Jaime didn’t even blink. “You will not bring Nikeese along as your date. Doing so would attract massive rumour and we can’t have that.”

Rashidi’s mind was empty, blank and thoughtless.

“What?” he said again.

Jaime sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “If you bring a date, you must bring a woman.”

Rashidi could feel his magic trying to escape, his emotions throwing it into turmoil. He was sure the markings on his horns were glowing dimly.

“I-I-I-I-I…”

“Now go along now,” Jaime said, interrupting Rashidi’s sputtering. “I’m sure you have much to think about.”

Rashidi wordlessly left the room. He, he needed to talk to, to both of them, he needed both Nikeese and Retta.

Between one blink and the next Rashidi arrived at his twin’s doorway, feeling lost and uncertain and mad beyond belief.

“R-Retta,” he said weakly.

She turned to face him and Nikeese leaned into view. “Rashidi… what did father say to you?”

He walked into the room and collapsed upon the bed. “Th-, ther-, a cele-, a party.”

Retta blinked. “There’s a party? Why?”

Nikeese tapped her on the shoulder as Rashidi took in a shuddering breath. “Retta-dear, I think the party is for you two.”

Rashidi’s hands were shaking and  he started to flap them, trying to feel better . “I-I-I-I-, I’m not al-, not allowed to bring Nikeese as my d-d-d-date.”

Retta swore and Nikeese sighed in disappointment.

Rashidi grabbed his horns and rubbed his hands up and down them . “I-I-I have to attend… I d-don’t think I can without him. Y-y-you’d be too b-busy, Retta.”

Retta’s face twisted, distasteful and unimpressed. “Did he say anything else?”

Rashidi  clenched his eyes shut and shook his head . “If I bring anyone, it has to be a woman.”

A moment of silence passed. “I-, I could take Nikeese as my date.”

Nikeese sputtered out a laugh,  sounding almost panicked . “S-sorry, but, nothing against you Retta-dear, but  _ no _ . I just, I would not be able to handle that, and I’m sure your parents would find a way to keep me out of there anyway.”

Rashidi opened his eyes and saw a look of hurt and confusion on his twin’s face. “What do you mean?” She asked.

Nikeese sighed,  breath stuttering . “That’s too aggressive, too direct of a move. And… The whole point of me being there is to be there for Rashidi, but I’d only be able to do that as  _ your _ date. That would be… suspicious, me just leaving you for him. It would start rumours that would hurt  all of us .”

Nikeese gave a weak smile. “Trust me, I would love to be the kind of person with two lovers, but I won’t be cast as a cheat. I also won’t cast you two as either too weak-willed to hold onto me, or too oblivious to notice what I’m doing. You’re both too smart for that kind of rumour being spread about you.”

Retta swore again and Rashidi felt his emotions slip even further from his control as his hands started to glow. He-, he was really mad, but his sadness was too much for him to act on it.

“You’re right, I hate it, but you’re right,” Retta said.

Nikeese smiled kindly at her. “I’m sorry,” he said,  placing a hand gently on her shoulder .

Retta turned to her brother. “W-would Sika be good enough?”

Rashidi didn’t know, he couldn’t think. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out .

Retta’s body slumped and she released a sigh full of emotion. “Oh, Rash.”

She wrapped him in a hug. “It’ll be alright,” she said to him.

“Listen to your sister, darling,” Nikeese said with a gentle smile. “In my experience, she’s often correct.”

Rashidi just shook his head as he rested it in the crook of his sister’s neck.


	21. Chapter 20: The Failure - Zephyr (Alternatively: The path to success is paved with many failures)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zephyr meets her match

Zephyr was desperate. She could feel her place in the group slipping from her, could feel herself being pushed away with every turned head and unspoken word.

She was practicing her stances alone, outside of the fighting chamber because of the judgement she could feel in there, even from Khamseen, who looked like he was trying to hold it back.

Zephyr did a lunge with a throat grab, yelling her frustrations into the air as tears threatened to gather in her eyes. She needed to be stoic, poised, perfect, or they would get rid of her but she couldn’t help it. There was too much to feel now, too much that could hurt her.

Turning into a wide stance, facing left, Zephyr raised hands with curled fingers and leapt forward, imagining an enemy for her to slash at.

She landed wrong, hitting the dirt with a grunt, wishing she could get angry at herself. But that would lead nowhere, only to hurt for someone that wasn’t her.

She just-, she needed some standing, some value to the others, and everything would be alright again.

Just-, just something.

Zephyr shivered on the ground, refusing to let her tears fall as she pleaded to higher powers she didn’t believe in to help her.

* * *

“Wally!” Zephyr whisper-hissed at her friend. “Wally I have an idea!”

Her friend looked around before following her, getting away from the others.

“What is it?” he asked.

“If-,” Zephyr swallowed. “If I beat one of the other protectors in a fight, that would give me some standing, they would have to acknowledge I’m better than the one I beat, someone they currently value as more.”

Wally’s face got worried. “But what if you lose?”

Zephyr scrunched her face. “That won’t happen. I’m sure of it.”

Wally’s face didn’t change. “I-if you’re sure.”

“I’m very sure.”

Wally took a stuttered breath in. “W-who are you going to challenge?”

Zephyr considered this for a moment. “There’s no way I would beat my father, he’s too good, and Levanter is a bit of an enigma, but Khamseen? I know him. I have the highest chances of winning against him.”

“B-be careful,” Wally said.

Zephyr smiled. “You know I won’t be.”

Wally giggled a bit. “Just-, don’t lose, okay?”

Zephyr nodded. “I’ll do my best not to.”

* * *

Feet together in front of her, she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to the ground, stretching her hips.

“Breathe, two, three, four…” she whispered to herself, counting each  _ polok _ that passed. The stretch in her hips burned, pulling on ligaments and muscles as she held the position. When she had counted 10  _ polokil _ she lifted her head.

Standing up, she struck her open palm with her other fist. She was ready.

Zephyr smiled as she walked to the combat chamber. She could feel the hum of her body pressing her forward, pressing her towards victory.

“Khamseen!” She yelled in announcement. “I challenge you to a duel!”

The slightly older dragon startled, his white horns scraping against the wall he was resting against. He was staring at her.

“Don’t do this Zephyr,” he said.

She glared at him. “I, Zephyr Flare-Meltemi, challenge Khamseen Sirocco to a duel, to see which of us is the more skilled combatant!”

Khamseen shook his head as he stood up. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Zephyr, but I hope it’s the right thing.”

Zephyr took a fighting stance, left foot in front, wings out behind her, and arms lifted out before her.

“Fight me!” She snarled, sharp teeth gnashing together.

Khamseen flicked his tail, a blade construct flying out of the glowing tip.

Zephyr formed a barrier as she leapt to the left, out of the way.

“I said fight me!”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Khamseen asked as he leapt towards her, a leg swinging around towards her from her right.

Zephyr lifted a leg, blocking Khamseen’s with her shin. She then lifted her calf over his thigh and forced him down, where she then grabbed an arm and twisted.

A strong gust of air forced her off of him and she had to flap her wings frantically to keep from falling over.

“You won’t win,” Khamseen said. “Stop now and I will consider it a draw.”

“I have to win!” Zephyr shouted back.

Khamseen shrugged. “This will be your failure to make then.”

He then jumped forwards, a leg stretched out to hit her in the chest.

Zephyr leapt left and caught his leg in the curl of her right arm. Backing up, she lifted his leg until he toppled.

"I'm going to win, and you can't stop me."

She grabbed his arm and knelt over it, pulling it up into her shin.

"I-if you do, what w-will happen to Simoon?"

Zephyr stilled for just a moment and then she was on the ground, wing trapped under legs, arm held in a lock, and neck in a choke hold.

She couldn't get out of this, there was no way. She'd lost.

"I-I yield!!" She called, voice cracking around the pressure in her throat.

The pressure receded and Zephyr could breathe again.

"You've made a failure of yourself, Zephyr Flare-Meltemi, and you will be punished accordingly,” Khamseen said flatly, betraying no emotion.

Zephyr hitched a sob into the dirt below her.

“You know what you need to do now.”

Zephyr slowly got to her feet, shivering from the adrenaline that refused to leave. She had to face her father now, had to make him look at what she'd become.

She headed out of the chamber on heavy feet, weighed down by dread and regret. She barely wanted to look at herself, she couldn’t imagine what her father would see.

Exiting the chamber brought Zephyr to an outside that was noisy, dragons clamouring about everywhere. No one was still.

' _ What is going on? _ '

"A Guardian is coming!" Someone shouted. "He's graced us with his presence!"

Zephyr looked around for a moment, confused, until she saw it, a large glowing falcon that was growing closer with every second.

He turned into a dive, falling straight down at incredible speed.

_ Wham _ . The Guardian landed. Right in front of Zephyr. His presence loomed over her like something terrifying, like a final strike one could see coming. He glowed with a gentle aura that did little to make him seem less terrifying.

"Hello Zephyr," he said into her mind. "It's been a long time since I last saw you."

Zephyr was deathly afraid, limbs frozen in place. "H-has it?"

His eyes seemed to glimmer menacingly. “Indeed.”

“A-and,” Zephyr gulped. “Why are you here to see me now?”

The Guardian took a step forward. “Because I am disappointed and tired of waiting. Because you have failed to do what I saw you do. Because you are weak.” He was practically overtop of her now, looming like a blood red shadow.

The Guardian opened his wings wide. “Because you are my Champion and it is time for you to rise.”


	22. Chapter 21: Forgiveness must be earned - Charl (Alternatively: It is better to forgive than to forget, because if you forget they can do it again)

Charl stared at the fire, watching the flames flicker and spark. He was very close to it, but he couldn’t feel the warmth of it.

“Charl.”

He ignored Renzo.

“Charl.”

“I’m not talking to you,” Charl said.

“But you just did.”

Charl growled. “I said I’m not talking to you.”

Renzo sighed. “Alright, then can you listen?”

Charl continued to stare at the fire, listening to its crackles and pops.

“You need to learn how to use your magic, for your protection. I’m not capable enough to protect you on my own. Not from the extreme dangers.”

Charl turned around. “But you did protect me!” He shouted.

Renzo stilled. “Barely. I barely managed to protect you.”

Charl glared silently.

“And that’s why you need to learn.”

Charl pressed his lips together. “And that’s why I’m not talking to you!”

Charl turned back around and huffed as he crossed his arms. Renzo just didn’t get it.

“Everything I have done has been to protect you, Charl. It-, it’s my job now, the one task I’ve dedicated my life to. Let me do it.”

“You’re not my dad!” Charl yelled. “Because if you were you’d be dead!”

Charl froze, realizing what he just said. He sucked in a deep desperate breath.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” he said softly.

Arms he didn’t want to touch him wrapped around his shoulders. “I know you didn’t,” Renzo said.

Charl hiccuped. “You could have found a way, though, you-you-you-you’re an adult, you know things!”

Renzo sighed. “Adults are just children in large bodies pretending they know how the world works, I thought this was the answer, Charl, I really did. That’s why I did it.”

Charl refused to cry. “I hate you,” he whimpered.

A sad chuckle and a puff of breath. “I hate you too.”

Charl’s tiny body shook with the effort of holding in his tears. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too.”

Charl broke down and cried.

* * *

Renzo was meditating, focusing on his self, his image. He could feel it beneath his skin, the energy that formed his soul. It was golden bright and flowed, full of information stored in little bubbles.

He reached out and touched it, diverting the flow, changing the way his soul looked. He could feel his body reject the change though, so he pushed it back.

Renzo sighed. He could feel it, the information inside him, but he didn’t quite know what it said, what it meant. It was hard to understand. He’d been trying for years, but all that knowledge had been lost, no one in his city knew how to change souls anymore.

He recalled the first time he glimpsed his wife’s soul, when they first met. He had known instantly that they would be good together, he had felt it like something he knew from long ago, a fact that was always true.

He smiled sadly to himself, wishing he knew how to be better, do better, for Charl. Marigold would know, she knew so much about how to be kind, but Renzo didn’t. He was a diplomat, a spy, not a caretaker.

He could never face her again, not in this life, but he could get Charl to her, to somewhere safe.

“Renzo?” Charl asked.

He turned to look at his ward. “Yes?”

“What’s your wife like?”

Renzo smiled. “Her fur is golden beautiful. Her blue eyes match with the tunic she likes to wear and the mark on her back is an emblem of the sun.”

Renzo felt a tear sink into his fur. “She’s a caretaker, she looks after other people’s children when they’re too busy to do it themselves. She’s so good at it, you’d think she was actually born to do it!” Renzo huffed out a laugh.

“We used to joke that it was her job to lead the young and my job to lead the grown, and between the two of us we could rule the world.”

Renzo sniffed. “Sometimes, with how smart she was, I would almost believe it.”

Charl stared up at him. “Why’d she marry you?”

Renzo was sure there was a bit of pointedness in the question, some half-unintended insinuation that he shouldn’t be loved. That was okay though, Charl had every right to still be mad.

“She liked that I could play music and that I would dance with her. She liked that I lived more like the old ways. That I listened to my heart and not just my mind. She loved that I kept our species history intact, that I recited the ancient prayers to myself and lived like we weren’t trapped in a tiny tiny city with not enough space for too many people. She loved that I loved her.”

Renzo smiled. “I don’t deserve her, and I hope she’ll forgive me for what I’ve done.”

“I won’t forgive you.” Charl’s face was blank, nothing telling Renzo just how serious he was or was not.

Renzo smiled at him. “I know,” he said calmly, almost sadly. “I don’t expect anyone to forgive me. I’ve done some pretty bad things, betrayed so many people with the things I’ve done. I should never be forgiven.”

Charl’s face fell, his lip threatening to wobble, but he didn’t say anything. That was fine, perfectly fine. Renzo hadn’t expected him to anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> although this was short and nothing really happens in this chapter, it's still important, giving space just to see Charl's reaction in isolation after the events of "The Story" is required :)


	23. Chapter 22: Playtime - Maradalel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everything is sad, and not everything is happy, and sometimes you just need a little time to play to make everything better.

It had taken Andarada—el two weeks, two long,  _ long _ , weeks before he reported back to Maradalel about a  _ very secluded _ swimming spot. A part of the river that was relatively far away and hidden in a thicket of trees.

Maradalel really needed the relaxation. He felt like the tension in his body would snap his bones. He’d been nearly unable to sleep for ages.

He grabbed himself an extra set of clothes and then out the door he practically flew. He’d been practising his fighting every day, he deserved this.

“Someone’s eager,” Andarada—el commented.

Maradalel glared at him. “I haven’t done anything close to fun in  _ forever _ . I’ve only just been allowed some time to myself.”

“All you ever do is  _ train _ , it’s annoying! Even my father lets me have free time.”

Maradalel frowned. “I’m not allowed to have much free time because if I do, I could choose to do something feminine, or reveal my secret. That’s why I’m so limited.”

Andarada—el laughed. “It’s uh-, a bit late for keeping your secret a secret, though.”

Maradalel frowned slightly. “You’re special though. I know you wouldn’t reveal it to anyone else.”

Andarada—el flushed purple, yellow, and orange. “Oh.”

Maradalel smiled at him. “So, how long will it take to get to where we’re going?”

Andarada—el’s lips twitched. “About one and a quarter  _ hazokil _ .”

Maradalel gaped. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! That’s so long!” He groaned.

Andarada—el turned red and glared. “Well, you told me it had to be hidden!”

Maradalel gulped. “I-I did. I’m sorry.”

Andarada—el turned blue, cyan, chartreuse, and orange. “No, no, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have yelled.”

Maradalel flicked his eyes down, not looking up at his friend. “But, you were right.”

“Doesn’t mean I should have yelled though.”

Maradalel bit his lip. “Okay.”

His friend sighed. “Just because I’m  _ right _ and  _ older _ doesn’t mean I have a good reason to be angry. You had a reason to be annoyed and I should have just explained without yelling.”

He grabbed Maradalel’s hand, who raised his eyes to look at him. “Now…” Andarada—el smiled. “…Let’s get going. We only have so long to swim after all.”

Maradalel felt himself blush, though he wasn’t quite sure what colour it was. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

* * *

Andarada—el had led him to a thicket of willow trees, their thick drooping branches acting like curtains that secluded this calm curve of the river from everywhere else.

Andarada—el dropped his spare clothes next to the base of one of the trees and then jumped into the water, spreading his limbs to float on the surface.

“So! What do ya’ think? Pretty sweet, right?”

Maradalel looked around as he placed his extra clothes next to his friend’s. The leaves were a pretty shade of pale green, and sunlight glittered across the surface of the water.

“Yeah,” Maradalel said softly. “It’s pretty sweet.”

Andarada—el kicked over to the edge of the water and patted the ground next to him. Maradalel hesitated only a moment before sitting down, legs criss-crossed.

Andarada—licked his lips and opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.

“I-, uh, you’ve never swum before, right? Cuz, I doubt your parents would have let you.”

Maradalel shook his head. “Of course not. The only water I’ve been in is the public baths and the rain.”

Andarada—el was orange and chartreuse now. “W-would you let me t-t-teach you?”

Maradalel felt himself turn cyan in surprise. “Um, yeah, s-sure. Why not.”

A yellow smile shone up at him. “G-great! Then hurry up and get in here!”

Maradalel grinned widely and hurriedly untied his binding, throwing it behind him when he was done. He then looked down at his friend, his skin turning orange, yellow, purple and chartreuse. Andarada—el was cyan, cerise, and yellow, his mouth gaping.

Maradalel stared as cerise took over his friend’s entire skin. “I-, uh, I’ve never been able to just  _ do _ this, you know? Just bare my chest like this.” He then looked down, feeling embarrassment fill him.

“W-well, um-, I, uh, I think it’s cool that you trust me like th-that!” Andarada—el sputtered out.

Maradalel bit his lip and jumped into the water with a splash that completely soaked his friend.

“Aw, What! Why’d you do that!?”

Maradalel grinned playfully. “Because it’s fun!”

Cyan flashed across Andarada—el’s face. “W-w-w-well then take this!”

Andarada—el swung his arms back and then forward again, sending a giant wave towards his friend.

Maradalel covered his face and closed his eyes, but the water still hit, soaking him completely.

Maradalel licked his lips dry as water dripped from his hair onto his face. “This means war, you know.”

His friend smiled. “I’m aware.”

“I thought you were going to teach me to swim.”

Andarada—el shrugged. “This seems like a much better use of my time.”

Maradalel looked him up and down and then slapped the surface of the water, spraying them both. “War!!” He shouted.

A crest of water was instantly in his face, filling his open mouth.

“Andar-!”

Another splash interrupted him.

Maradalel narrowed his eyes and crouched down, bursting out of the water in front of Andarada—el, grabbing his wrist with one hand and splashing him with the other.

“Ha hah!” Maradalel cheered.

Andarada—el’s captured fist hit him in the chest, knocking him into the water. Hands then grabbed his hair, holding him under.

Maradalel kicked out and slipped an ankle behind his friend’s knee, pulling back to knock him over.

_ Splash! _

Maradalel smiled and stood, holding his friend under by the shoulders. Palms weakly slapped against his forearms and feet kicked too slowly to do any damage. The movements then began to slow and Maradalel frowned, feeling orange and chartreuse take over his skin.

He weakened his grip and Andarada—el burst out of the water with a spin that not only made a wave as tall as Maradalel, but caused Andarada—el to accidentally backhand Maradalel across the face.

They both froze. “D-, did you just slap me?” Maradalel asked.

Andarada—el blinked twice, face turning cyan. “I, uh, yeah, I think I did. Sorry.”

Maradalel looked his friend up and down and then splashed him with a flick of his wrist. Andarada—el only blinked in response, so he did it again. And again. And again.

“What are you doing?”

“Splashing you, clearly.”

“You’re more spraying me than anything.”

“It’s my revenge, I’m being a minor annoyance.”

A resigned sigh. “Of course.”

Andarada—el brought his hands together, a small aura forming around them. He smiled and jumped up, crashing his glowing hands into the water with enough physical and magical force to make a wave so big it not only splashed all over Maradalel, but also made the riverside soaking wet.

Maradalel spit water out of his mouth as his friend laughed so hard he nearly fell over. “Okay, that’s enough. Using magic was clearly cheating.”

“Y-y-y-your h-hair! It’s so f-flat! Hahahaha!”

“Did you hear me!?”  
Andarada—el just continued to laugh.

* * *

The two of them were laying on the grass, panting and enjoying the sun as they dried off a little.

“Hey, I have a question,” Andarada—el said, breaking the silence.

“Um, alright.”

“If you hate your parents so much, why don’t you just run away?”

Maradalel froze up, his mind blank except for the vicious edges of terror sneaking in.

“Wh-where would I go?” He whispered. “My parents are the only reason I have clothes, have food, have  _ a home _ . Running away would mean leaving those behind and not knowing if or when I would have them again.”

His friend hummed. “But running away means you might find a place where you would have all of those without being afraid. The chance might be low but at least there would be one.”

Maradalel shook his head. “It’s not worth it, not right now. I’m happy, relatively speaking.”

Andarada—el sat up and looked down at him. “Are you really? The only times I ever see you smile, see you yellow, is when you’re alone with me. You’re not happy, not while you’re here in Dammaga.”

Maradalel gulped. “But I can’t leave,” he said with a cracking voice. “Not without you.”

Andarada—el’s face fell as his skin turned a mix of purple, blue, cyan, magenta, yellow, and chartreuse. “Fuck, Mara…” 

Andarada—el then reached over and hugged him, wrapping Maradalel in his arms as he shook. But Maradalel refused to cry, he was stronger than that. He was supposed to be a good strong soldier boy after all. Crying was for the theatre, for the weaker men.

“Hey,” Andarada—el said softly. “It’s only me here. You can cry if you want to.”

Maradalel nodded, rubbing his nubby little antlers on his friend’s chest. His hands and ears were glowing now, but he still refused to cry.

A palm landed in his hair and began to gently pet him. Maradalel let out a shuddering breath and let one tear trace a path down his cheek.

“I don’t wanna be here anymore,” he said brokenly.

“I know. I don’t wanna be here either.”

Neither of them was talking about the river.

Maradalel spent the rest of their free time shaking in his friend’s arms, until they had to go back home, to the places they dreaded the most.


	24. Chapter 23: The Champion - Zephyr

Zephyr’s mouth gaped open at the Guardian as everyone else gasped in surprise.

“And just what the fuck does that mean?” She yelled.

The Guardian blinked calmly. “You are the Champion of Guardian Batlis, the one who made you. I have bestowed you with a great gift and in return you will do me a great service.”

Zephyr glared. “Fuck you!” She cried with a wave of her arm. “I don’t want anything to do with you!”

Batlis narrowed his eyes. “You will speak to me with respect, Protector, or you will regret a great many things.” His voice boomed inside her mind, rumbling like thunder.

Zephyr bit her tongue to keep from speaking.

“Um, ex _ cuse me _ ,” Rashabar said, haughtiness radiating from every spoken syllable. “But she’s kinda useless. She’s a horrible person.”

The Guardian spun around, curved beak snapping. “Are you questioning my choices?!” He yelled with his mind.

Rashabar opened her mouth but Norte, her mother, slapped a hand over her face. “You will say  _ nothing, _ ” she hissed to her daughter. “A Guardian’s word is absolute! We must listen. If Zephyr is his champion then she must have some value.”

Zephyr didn’t like the way Norte had said that.

Batlis tilted his head. “What is this about my champion’s value?”

Levanter spoke up. “She had none, sir. She was on the verge of being kicked out of the clan.”

Batlis hummed. “And now?”

Levanter flinched the tiniest bit. “She’s here to stay unless she decides to leave.”

Batlis nodded, satisfied. “Good. I think I will stay here for a while. Provide accommodations for me and my attendants.”

Zephyr watched, totally detached, as everyone hurried off to make sure there were enough spare caverns for everyone to stay in.

“What have you to say, Champion Protector?” Batlis asked her.

Zephyr didn’t answer and just walked away.

“Excuse me,” one of the attendants said to her. Zephyr ignored her.

“Excuse me, Champion Protector!”

Zephyr spun around. “What!?”

The woman smiled at her, her browned skin almost appeared to shimmer. “I am Lord Batlis’ Hand, if you could direct me to your clan leader, I would be very appreciative.”

Zephyr clenched her jaw. “You’re his what?”

The woman tilted her head, her eyes amused. “I am his most trusted, an extension of his will. I share some of his powers and authority. I wish to talk with your clan leader so I may arrange some things.”

Zephyr stood still for a long moment. “…Follow me, my father is this way.” She then spun around and started walking, not even checking if the woman was behind her.

“What is your father’s name, Zephyr?”

“Etesians,” Zephyr replied shortly.

The woman hummed.

Zephyr led her silently to her father’s chamber. His was separated from the others, given his station as the leader.

“Father!” Zephyr called, announcing herself. “I wish to speak with you.” She turned around and looked at the attendant behind her. “And I’ve brought someone who wants to talk as well.”

“Come in then,” Etesians called back.

Zephyr entered, followed by the Hand. Etesians was looking at his horde, brushing his fingers over the scraps of fine fabric.

“I lost a duel with Khamseen,” She said, not wasting a second.

Etesians froze for a second. “Will you be leaving, then?”

Zephyr shook her head. “Guardian Batlis showed up and declared me his ‘Champion Protector’. I have  _ some _ value now.”

Etesians was shaking slightly. “I see.”

“I don’t think anyone likes that I have this title though, I doubt it will grant me any respect.”

Etesians shook his head. “No, definitely not.” He sighed. “Who is this woman with you?”

Zephyr looked over at the woman. “She’s Batlis’ ‘Hand’, she wishes to… discuss with you.”

Etesian’s face stretched with surprise. “A Hand travelling with their Guardian? Unusual.”

The woman chuckled. “I was required, so I came.”

Etesians hummed. “Zephyr, go be with Wally for a while.”

Zephyr turned on her heel and left briskly. She hadn’t wanted to listen to them talk anyway.

* * *

Zephyr passed by Batlis as she was looking for Wally, his eyes capturing her attention. They were deep and slanted, predatory, following her every move.

“Yes?” She asked him.

He seemed to smile, though his face had not changed. “Champion Protector Zephyr Flare-Meltemi, daughter of Gale and Laurence Flare, ward of Etesians Meltemi. You please me.” He practically purred the last words.

Zephyr shuddered with unease. She didn’t want to think about how he knew all that about her.

“What do you want?”

Batlis shook his huge feathered body, sending small currents of air flowing as he further messed his already ruffled appearance. He looked older than any other living creature Zephyr had seen, crimson feathers dusty and splayed in mismatched directions, some bent and broken, others long removed by scars. “I am the Guardian of Battle, I want you to fight. Not all the time, not every day, but I want you to do it for me, in my name.”

“How about no?” Zephyr said sassily, defensively. She wanted out of this conversation. Now.

He narrowed his eyes, his flowing aura going from thick and gentle to thin, bright, sinister. “Oh, but you will, or I will retract my championship from you.”

The dark orbs of his eyes stared at her, full of power and darkness. He was looming again, his silhouette ugly and dark. Zephyr felt fear being planted in her heart, growing like a weed the longer she looked. She was fairly sure she now knew why this being was so respected, so feared.

She felt on edge just standing here.

“As you wish, Guardian Batlis,” Zephyr said with a shaky bow.

Batlis’ eyes glimmered at her, prickling her with his gaze. “Very good, Champion. You may go on your way now.”

Zephyr walked away from the interaction with her heart trembling like a leaf in a storm.

* * *

Zephyr finally found Wally in his personal cavern, the last place she would have expected him to be. He was just sitting there, drawing patterns in the dust.

"Buddy?"

He looked up at her. "I heard you lost. When are we leaving?"

Zephyr felt her heart surge with sorrow. "We're not leaving yet, the Guardian gave me a title."

Wally blinked. "Oh."

Zephyr felt herself scowl. "He didn't give me any respect though, so I guess… be ready for your plan at any moment."

Wally nodded solemnly, face and eyes blank of feeling. "Alright."

Zephyr wrapped him in a hug, giving him a squeeze. "If worse comes to worse, I promise you'll be alright, okay. I promise nothing bad will happen to you."

She leaned back and smiled at him. "I was named 'Champion Protector' for a reason. I'll do my best to protect you."

Wally gave her a weak smile, some of his familiar light filling his eyes. "I know you will," he said. "You're the best."


	25. Chapter 24: The Celebration (Rashidi's Version)

Rashidi stared at the door, and pondered, not for the first time, whether he was doing the right thing. Because there was a small difference, but an important one, between what needed to be done, and the right thing.

Rashidi turned to his side, where Sika stood, and wondered if maybe the difference was a bit bigger than he initially thought.

“Are you ready?” Retta asked from his other side.

Rashidi turned to her and nodded. She smiled, walked over to the doors, and pulled them open, letting the long line of guests finally walk in.

Rashidi ran his fingers along the stiff decorative stitching of his sleeves, preparing for the worst night of his life.

* * *

“Young Lord Alabann? I am Lord Ellis Mirriem, eldest son of the late Lord Raketh Mirriem of Holomisa. It is a pleasure to be welcomed into your mother’s home.”

Rashidi smiled, or at least tried to smile, he wasn’t sure. Sometimes he made the motion and a frown appeared on his face anyway, or maybe some other expression. It was impossible to tell when he wasn’t looking at a mirror.

“It is a pleasure to have you here, Lord Ellis. Please join the others in the room below.”

The man bowed, curly brown hair flopping slightly, and then he was gone, quickly replaced with another guest.

“Greetings, Young Rashidi Alabann,” said a tanned man with hair that was just starting to go grey. “I am Prime Lord Harvik Markindale of Bluecentre. It is a wonder to have been invited to celebrate your delights and accomplishments.”

Prime Lord Markindale then smiled, his eyes scrunching oddly. “When you can, do tell your father that my son, young Lord Wiff, is waiting where he was instructed to.”

Rashidi wanted to frown, he really did. “Of course, sir.”

Lord Markindale then turned to Sika. “Are you young Rashidi’s date for tonight?”

Sika nodded. “Indeed, sir.”

“And you are?” Lord Markindale didn’t appear to know who she was. Rashidi was kinda glad about that.

Sika didn’t react to the subtle jab. “I am young Lady Sika Zhao, daughter of Lord Qiang Zhao. I am also a member of the Mage’s Guard here in Gattinton.”

Lord Markindale’s eyebrows rose considerably. “Are you now? How interesting.”

Rashidi couldn’t hold himself to this conversation any longer, just listening was boring and too carefully pleasant. “Sir,” he said. “There are more guests waiting behind you.”

Lord Markindale blinked. “Ah, of course. I shall join the others then.”

Rashidi took a deep breath in as the man walked away, holding his hand out for Sika to take. He needed the grounding.

“I didn’t like him. I didn’t like any of them, but him especially,” Rashidi said with a wavering voice. “He said things I didn’t understand.”

Sika gave his hand a pat. “There shouldn’t be too many more, we’ve been here for about twenty  _ kimlutil _ now. I doubt your parents would have invited more than 100 guests.”

Rashidi heaved a sigh and turned to the next guest.

* * *

The music that played was reserved, slow. It was beautiful to the ear, but it had no personality, no substance that Rashidi could cling to. There was a lot of strings and woodwinds, but practically no brass or drums, no strong deep tones that Rashidi could feel in his bones.

What was worse was that Rashidi kept having to look down at his feet. Even though he knew the steps, knew how to waltz among many other dances, he was constantly afraid of tripping, of stepping wrong.

The women he danced with always appeared slighted when he wouldn’t look them in the eyes. It was exhausting, watching their faces, interpreting what they were thinking, wondering just how they were judging him. Sika didn’t do that, didn’t judge him, but she did keep her distance from him usually. She was friendly but she wasn’t Nikeese.

Nikeese knew how to hug him, tight and strong, lifting him in the air like a relative you haven’t seen in years.

Sika would only gather the fabric of his shirt in her hands, squeezing it like something to remember. Rashidi appreciated it, the feeling of the slide of fabric, the rough scrub of the texture against his skin. But it wasn’t enough.

“Young Lord Alabann, are you okay?” Asked the lady he was with. She was an older woman, already had young daughters she had to leave at home.

Rashidi gave her an attempt of a smile. “Just lost in thought, Lady Sorminex.”

She smiled, full and wide, eyes crinkling genuinely at the edges. “Are you thinking of someone? Your date perhaps?” Her voice was amused, light and tall.

Rashidi huffed a warm breath out as the music swelled in a way his ears wanted to protest against. “Perhaps,” he said with a slight smile.

The woman’s smile grew and she let go of his gloved hands. “Then I shan't keep you from her then.”

Rashidi breathed out through his nose. “Thank you, Lady Sorminex.” He then walked off to find Sika, already tearing his gloves off, the tightness of them bothering him where his sweat had gathered, making his skin itch like no tomorrow. He wished he could take off all his clothes, stand in the middle of the room with nothing on. His skin was so sensitive right now, it was maddening. It buzzed and warbled. He was sure that if he concentrated he would be able to feel the smallest movement of air, even if he stood still.

He couldn’t do that though. Too many people, too improper, too  _ strange. _

Rashidi wanted to cry.

“Lord Alabann!” Sika called from behind him. Rashidi turned around, wanting to cry for a whole new reason.

“Lady Zhao,” he responded. “I was just looking for you.”

She looked him up and down, eyes catching on the gloves crushed in his grip. “I can see why. Let’s get you to a hallway, hm? Get you a breath of fresh air for a moment?”

Rashidi nodded and began walking. “Will you entertain me with stories of our guests?” He asked, tone joking.

Sika rolled her eyes. “I’m sure the guests were much nicer to me than they were to you. They know who you are, they don’t know a thing about me.”

“Well, I-, uh, I assume there must have been at least one guest who stood out?”

Sika smiled. “Of course there was, it wouldn’t be a party without at least one, would it?”

Rashidi snorted. “I guess so, but I haven’t been to a party in so long that I wouldn’t know for sure.”

Sika patted him on the head, running delicate fingers along his horns. “Aw, poor baby, have you not been to enough parties?”

Rashidi glared at her, mostly in jest. “I hate you.”

Sika smiled. “Good, that means you’re too busy to hate the party.”

Rashidi blinked. “Um, thank you.”

Sika giggled. “You’re very welcome.

* * *

Rashidi’s feet itched. He wanted to take off his shoes, feel something other than the hardness of felt covered wood beneath his toes. He wanted to feel the smoothness of marble, the squish of earth, the resistance of full wooden flooring.

Rashidi sighed into the air between him and Sika, his hand holding hers as she spun to a swell in the music. “How aren’t you tired yet?”

She just smiled at him. “It’s a secret I like to call 'sneaking into the kitchens for tea'. All the servants are too busy serving food that no one is guarding the cupboards.”

Rashidi snorted as he stepped to the left, following the rest of the dancers as they swayed and turned in time with the music. “Smart lady.”

She nodded elegantly. “Quite.”

The music swelled one final time and then stopped, the pairs of dancers parting.

The loud ringing of metal on glass caught everyone’s attention. “Excuse me!” Shouted Masva over the crowd. “But it is now nearing the 29th  _ Hazok _ . Those of you that are staying in guest rooms are welcome to those, however, the rest of you must begin to leave as the function is now over. It was a delight having you all here and I hope you all had a wonderful evening celebrating the achievements of my wonderful children!”

The crowd roared out a cheer, a large fuzzy pointed cheer that built up in Rashidi’s ears like rough fur, sounding like the way drawing squiggles on paper felt.

And then it was over. The noise, the discordance, the party. It was all over.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. “Rashidi, dear, are you able to bid the guests farewell?”

Rashidi didn’t reply. He couldn’t anyway, he wasn’t here to reply. Sure he was physically there, but his mind wasn’t. He was far away, where no one could bother him anymore.

Masva sighed. “Sika, would you be a help and take Rashidi to his room? I need to say farewell to the guests.”

Sika nodded. “Of course, ma’am.”

A hand touched his shoulder, pushing him towards the stairs. He let it.

“You’re a wonderful hassle, you know that?” Sika asked as she guided him. “Wouldn’t give you up for anything, but you are definitely a handful.”

She giggled. “I can’t wait for you and Nikeese to get married, show the whole world nothing will get in your way.”

Rashidi nodded vaguely, as if he understood, as if he heard. He wasn’t entirely sure if he had.

Sika sighed. “I hate it when you shut off like this, it’s like playing with a doll, there’s no life to you.”

Rashidi smiled. That’s precisely why he did it, if he had no life, there was no life to ruin.


	26. Chapter 25: The Celebration (Retta's Version)

Retta greeted the guests and silently fumed a little more as each one made their way to the dance floor. She-, she was beyond angry. She greeted another guest and turned to her left, where Rashidi was standing with Sika, the woman he had brought as his date.

Retta frowned at them,  at how stiff Rashidi was , and then turned back to greet another guest.

* * *

Retta was sitting off to one side, watching the guests dance and eat. She may be mobile now, but she didn’t have the energy for dancing all night long, not yet at least.

They were all spinning and twirling and dipping and smiling, it was a beautiful slight.

And then Jaime was there, smiling just  _ too _ pleasantly.

“Retta, daughter-mine, your mother and I have a surprise for you.”

Retta didn’t react, didn’t let her suspicions show on her face. “Where is it, father?” She asked.

Jaime continued to smile as he walked away, leading her to another room.

“You see, Retta,” he said as he opened the door. “The situation with your twin and his chosen, has made us… apprehensive. But! With you better now, it doesn’t matter.”

Retta felt dread pool in her stomach. “Father, what kind of surprise is this?”

Jaime’s smile twisted slightly, becoming something no longer happy as the look in his eyes changed to something that made Retta afraid.

“We sent out letters inviting as many noblemen who would come to attempt to sway you into becoming their wife. You will pick one, or your brother will be forced to leave his beloved. The family needs an heir, you know it does.”

Retta hesitated for only a moment before walking into the room. She could do this, she could sacrifice this choice to protect them. This way at least one of them would be happy.

There was a man at the table, tan skin and brown hair, wearing too many rings and an over the top outfit made of blue fabric with amber stitching.

Retta sat down across from him. “Hello sir, as you likely know, I am young Lady Retta Alabann, daughter of Lady Masva Alabann.”

The man smiled, stained teeth peeking through his lips. “I am young Lord Wiff Markindale, son of Harvik Markindale, Prime Lord of Bluecentre, a port town in the north.”

Retta nodded. “What are your duties there?”

Wiff was still smiling, his ugly teeth on display. “I’m in charge of the fishing boats, I collect the taxes off of them and arrest anyone who is short of payment.”

Retta smiled politely as all of her interest died. “And in your free time?”

His face fell to an expression of neutral distaste. “I study politics, so that I may take my father’s place. I am his eldest child.”

Retta didn’t entertain him for much longer. Or the next lord, or the next one, or the next one.

A young Lord Billis, son of Lord Mark Pieric, caught her attention for a moment when he mentioned being friends with commoners in his free time. But, he said it was only an act, to garner sympathy from them. Retta barely resisted from glaring at him.

Another of the young lords was able to hold a conversation about books for some time, but, from there, he had little else in common. She mentioned commoner friends to him and he backtracked out of the conversation so fast Retta almost got whiplash.

This went on and on, most lords barely seeming to be interested in talking to Retta, typically wanting to talk about themselves, while some at least had some sense in their brains. But, all of them, all of them just weren’t right, weren’t suitable.

Retta couldn’t choose a single one of them.

Gagging internally as she waved off the final lord with a friendly smile, Retta sagged into her seat, feeling exhausted. She wanted to nap, but she was too charged, too angry, too revolted. If she had to talk to another  _ person _ that she didn’t approach herself, she was going to explode.

The door opened and in walked Jaime, looking prim and proper and pleased.

“How’d it go, Retta-dear?” He asked, sounding like he didn’t particularly care.

Retta sighed. “I didn’t like any of them.”

A hum of thought. “Well, that’s too bad. You’ll have to pick someone.”

Retta rested her head on the table. “I knowww,” she said into the polished surface, barely restraining her anger from releasing.

“I… are you alright?”

Retta groaned. “No, father, I’m exhausted.”

“Hmmm, I guess you can be excused, despite the early hour. I’ll tell your brother and mother you’ve retired to your room.”

Retta flinched internally. Guardians, she was leaving Rashidi alone with Sika. They would survive the night, she was sure, but goodness it was going to be a close call.

Jaime stood and left the room with a quick “good night, Retta.”

Retta just groaned in response as the door shut.

_ Click _ went the latch and Retta’s head was instantly off the table. She needed to be out of here.

Retta wrapped herself in magic, feeling her pointed ears light up as she focused on thoughts of the back gardens, where none of the guests were allowed.

She smiled as she disappeared with a flash, teleporting the short distance to outside.

* * *

Retta touched down outside and then collapsed to her knees, puking up what little food she had eaten earlier.

She had no more mana left, she could feel the lack of it as a yawning void, like when her stomach was empty. She spat one more time, trying to rid her mouth of the acrid taste of stomach fluids, and then stood on shaky feet. Thoughts of how reckless she was being flowed through her mind as she remembered that she had never been good at teleporting, even under supervised conditions.

Gulping down her nerves, Retta turned and walked off into town, the dim light of evening cloaking her escape.

* * *

Retta stood in front of Nikeese’s door, shifting from foot to foot. She clenched her eyes closed and knocked, fighting past the nerves and anger that restricted her movements.

No answer. So, she knocked again.

The door opened to reveal a sleepy looking Nikeese, still wearing day-clothes despite the evening hour, eyes drooping slightly and grasping weakly on the door.

“R-Retta?…” He said with a yawn. “What-, What are you doing here, dear? Aren’t you supposed to be at the celebration?”

Retta grimaced. “Something… unexpected happened. I couldn’t stay, not without getting angrier than I am now.”

Nikeese blinked slowly and opened the door. “C-come right in then.”

Retta stomped up the stairs and charged right into Nikeese’s room, seating herself on the chest next to his bed.

“It’s evening,” she said when he caught up. “Why are you still awake when you look so tired?”

He blinked slowly again, apparently not processing very fast. “I, uh, I’ve been working on something. The, uh, the university has tasked me with researching ways to counter the Drinker problem. I’ve been up since, uh, since yesterday.”

Nikeese gave a sheepish smile, an expression that only made him look more like a sleepy puppy.

Retta smiled as gently as she could. “And what have you been researching on the side?”

Nikeese’s ears turned a shade redder, but his face didn’t reveal anything else about how he felt.

“Just some-” a yawn interrupted him. “Some more advanced rune theory stuff. It’s much more in-depth than the stuff they taught in the schools.”

He then blinked several times, apparently coming into a bit of wakefulness. “Wait a moment, you didn’t comment on my bad sleeping, you must be really thrown off, dear.”

Retta felt her face twist into some kind of expression, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was. “Please don’t. I really don’t want to talk about it.”

He sighed. “Do you know how your brother is doing at least?”

Retta shook her head. “I was-, I was preoccupied with something. But I’m sure Sika can handle him. They’ll be fine.”

Nikeese’s face warped with worry. “Alright…”

Retta looked him up and down. “You’re my best friend, you know that right? The one person who may know me just as well as my brother does.”

“I… Really?” Nikeese looked shocked, which surprised her a bit.

Retta nodded. “Not even my parents know me like you do.”

He smiled fondly at her. “You have no idea what that means to me, hearing you say that.”

Retta bit her lip. “I-, uh, I think I might, actually.”

A smirk slowly formed on Nikeese’s face. “Well, if that’s the case, you should tell me what’s bothering you. I can’t be a good best friend if I can’t help you, now can I?”

Reta swore, but her tone was playful. “You!-, You’re not wrong.” She shook her head lightly.

“Gods, um.” Retta stopped for a moment and gathered her thoughts. “Dad had a, uh, a surprise for me. Apparently, since I’m better, and Rashidi has made such ‘poor’ romantic choices, they decided to force me to pick a husband from a group of men they had gathered at the party.”

Nikeese’s face did something displeasurable, his mouth pulled down into something resembling a pouty frown.

Retta chuckled lowly. “Yeah, I know. Not nice.”

Nikeese nodded silently.

She took a deep breath in. “They uh, they proved how little they know about me today, by collecting the most awful group of men I have ever had the luck of interacting with.”

Retta felt her face harden with fury. “Not a single one! Not one! Understood me, or wanted to know me. They were there to sway me into making them my husband, but not one of them entertained the thought of knowing me! It was as if they all thought that all they had to do to make me choose them was  _ show up! _ ”

Retta panted into the dark of the room, facing the floor, her breaths coming quickly. “I hated every last one of them because none of them understood why I had non-noble friends, why I read fiction so often, why I had wanted to be a member of the magical guard. They were all horrible choices, I couldn’t pick any of them.”

She then looked back up at her friend. “But I have to, to protect you and Rashidi. I have to pick a husband.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “I have to,” she said again. “Or they’ll make him leave you.”

Nikeese walked over and wrapped her in a hug. “Sweetheart, don’t say that, please. You’ll think of a way out of this. You always do.”

Retta shook her head. “I don’t know if I can.”

Nikeese gathered her face in his hands.  He-, he was blushing . 

“You will,” he said. “Because you are the smartest woman I know.”

Retta could practically feel the insinuations in that statement, so she shook her head, tears starting to fall. “Don’t say that,” she said. “Don’t say it unless you mean it.”

A smile stretched across his face. “You’re the smartest woman I know, and the woman I love. You will think of something.”

Retta cried as he kissed her forehead. She cried because she knew he wasn’t lying. He would never lie about this.

“W-why?” she asked weakly. “Why now?”

He was still smiling gently. “Because you came to me, instead of finding a way to talk to Sika without distracting her. I know you could have so easily done that. Because you came to me to seek stability when you could have gone to someone else to complain. Because you protected me from trouble on the first day we met, and because I know you came here so you could be around someone you wished you could marry after being forced to talk to so many people that you wish you didn’t have to choose from.”

“God, Nikeese,” Retta whispered. A fresh batch of tears flowed from her eyes as she leaned forward and touched her lips to his, feeling a mix of joy, finality, and sadness engulfing her.

She likely wouldn’t ever get to do it again.

His lips were plush and smooth, and they slotted perfectly against hers, moving slowly in a rhythm that only they knew. It was beautiful, wonderful.

It was everything she ever thought it would be like and more.

She trembled in the embrace of her best friend until she couldn’t kiss him anymore, too tired and too worn out emotionally to stay awake.

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” Nikeese whispered as she drifted off.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a discord for discussing any and all of my stories: https://discord.gg/tBGA5fU  
> Anyone is welcome to join if they wish :)


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